Booty Call

Adrian waited on the edge of the bed in his tiny studio apartment. He had a lot more to get done before midnight, but he couldn’t start just yet. So far he’d made good progress procuring the offerings he needed for the ritual. He had, after all, given a good amount of thought as to how he’d go about it, so when he had decided to pull the trigger he’d already had a plan in place. Still, some of them were trickier than others, and this next one had been the hardest of all to arrange. It had been expensive, too; next month's rent was going to be tight.

A delicate knock sounded from his front door. Adrian licked his lips and stood, surprised to find that he was nervous. It figured he supposed. He’d never done this before.

A few quick steps carried him to the apartment door, and he opened it to reveal the woman standing on the other side. She favored him with a catty smile and despite himself, his breath caught.

“Hi.” She spoke in a soft, husky tone. “Adrian?”

He looked around to see if anyone was watching. His unit was on the ground floor of the three-story, U-shaped complex. A courtyard rested at its center, consisting of little more than concrete slabs and some benches coated in sun-bleached green paint. Beyond that was the parking lot, where Adrian spied an out-of-place SUV. A man sitting in the driver’s seat stared at him intently. She hadn’t come alone.

“Yeah,” Adrian replied, doing his best to ignore the stranger’s attention. “That’s me. Come on in.”

He held the door open and watched as she strolled past, confident and completely out of place in his dingy, one-room apartment. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in thick waves. Her tight red dress, open at the midriff, hugged her hips tightly, showcasing an alluring hourglass figure. She turned back around to look at him once the door was closed and he was caught by her hazel eyes, smoky with makeup and shadowed by locks of her glossy hair. Her skin was like warm copper, somehow managing to glow even in the poor lighting of his room. “I’m Opal,” she said simply, sidling up to him closer than a stranger should be.

Her eyes quickly roamed over the apartment, a brief detour before they came to rest on him once more. Adrian thought that maybe he caught something in her look. This had been an expensive date. He was perhaps not, he guessed, her usual caliber of clientele. His studio was certainly nothing impressive. The kitchen nook's minuscule counter space was crammed with beat-up appliances. His bed, only a twin, was shoved into the corner. A ratty old recliner chair, a stained love set, and a simple wooden table with two rickety wooden folding chairs were his only other pieces of furniture. The walls were closer to gray than white, brown in some places from a previous occupant who had chain-smoked near the window. The linoleum floors were so worn down and scraped up that he couldn’t have said what kind of wood they were meant to look like. If that had been judgment he’d caught in her brief assessment it wouldn't have been unfounded, but she had hidden it quickly enough that he couldn’t be sure.

Opal took another step closer, one of her hands coming to rest on his chest, her red-painted nails gently drumming. His hand in turn found her waist, her exposed skin warm to the touch. “It’s a nice night out,” she said.

“Yeah,” he agreed dumbly.

“A little cold though,” she continued, though her words were anything but. “Perfect for staying in.”

Adrian made a guttural sound of agreement.

Opal took a step back then and Adrian read the cue. “I’m just going to freshen up real quick,” he told her. “Make yourself at home.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Adrian pointedly turned his back to her, making his way to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Once inside he turned the faucet on and rested his hands on the small countertop to stare at himself in the mirror. He had spent pretty much all his free time that day sending out messages on all the back-alley sites he could find to try and arrange this. It hadn’t been easy to find someone who was both available on such short notice and willing to indulge his particular needs. It hadn’t been cheap either.

The blood of the last person you had slept with. He shook his head. What an obnoxious requirement. Christine had assured him, repeatedly, that from context clues she could be pretty certain that only a drop or two was needed. Which was good, because it wasn’t like Adrian would have been willing to do what was necessary to get more than that.

Unfortunately, the last person he had slept with had been a one-night stand at a party eight or nine months ago. Essentially unfindable. He might have been able to pick someone up at a bar or a club, but that wasn’t exactly a sure thing. And even if he managed it, the odds that they’d let him get a drop of their blood were…well, he couldn’t blame anyone for running away screaming. Hence, Opal. It had all been arranged over text. She probably thought he was an absolute freak, which he didn’t love, but ultimately he had to admit that it didn’t matter. They’d never see each other again after tonight.

After a minute or two had passed he figured he had given Opal enough time. He shut the faucet off and went back out to the main room. Surreptitiously he eyed the kitchen counter where he had left an open envelope. It wasn’t there anymore. Good.

Opal was lounging on his bed. Her eyes met his, and the corners of her mouth formed a tiny, tempting smile. She motioned him over.

Adrian approached; the next words he needed to say were awkward in his mouth. He cleared his throat. “So…about that thing we talked about.”

She did her best to hide it, but Opal stiffened. “Of course,” she said. She held out her hand to him like a lady offering it to be kissed. Adrian took her hand in his, feeling the tenseness of her muscles, and turned it palm-side up. He pulled a sewing needle and a small glass vial out of his pocket. He looked at Opal one last time, and she gave him a weak smile, nodding at him to continue.

Having received the final permission Adrian pricked the pad of her index finger with the needle, quickly, and felt Opal jump at the sensation. It wouldn’t have hurt too bad, he knew, but there was no denying how weird this was. Adrian thought about the imposing figure waiting in the parking lot, but pushed it aside.

As a small bead of blood began to well Adrian pressed the vial against her finger. The tiny drop fell to the vial's bottom, soon followed by a second then a third. That should be enough, he figured, removing the vial and closing it up. He pocketed it, pulling out a small bandage in its place. Somewhat sheepishly he offered it to Opal. She actually laughed.

“No,” she said. “That’s alright.” She slid her hand up from his to wrap her fingers around his forearm. “Are we all set then?”

“Um, yeah,” he replied. “That’s it.” He felt like a moron. Like a creep. And he was right to, he supposed. Moreover, he'd be an even bigger moron than either of them thought if it all turned out to be for nothing.

“Good,” Opal purred. She used her grip on his arm to pull him down onto the bed. Adrian came to rest on top of her. Her lips found his neck, kissing gently as her hands roamed his back. Adrian’s own hands found her waist and gripped it firmly. She writhed up against him, grinding their hips against one another’s.

Adrian grew hard. He knew what this was, he had known working girls growing up and was under no delusions, but the heat of Opal’s body was hard to deny.

Working quickly, Opal’s hands found his pants button and began to slide them off. Soon he was naked from the waist down, freeing his turgid cock. Opal produced a condom, from where he couldn’t have said, and tore the wrapper open with a smoldering look in her eye. Her hand reached down and began to roll it down his length, the sensation producing little shudders across Adrian’s body.

When she was done Adrian gently pushed against her side, suggesting that she turn over. Opal obliged. It was easier for him this way. His blood was up, he wanted this now, but Adrian struggled to push down feelings of shame. He had never been the sort of man who paid for sex, and it felt like he was giving a part of himself up. Not having to see her face helped.

Focusing on the task at hand, Adrian placed his hands on Opal’s ass. He pushed the length of her dress up, revealing a pair of red lacy panties. She shimmied, freeing herself from their confines, and wriggled her ass at him enticingly. Adrian let his thoughts become focused on the warmth of her skin and the dewy pinkness between her legs.

He lined himself up and began to slowly push in. Opal’s folds parted and he was embraced by the heat of her sex. A low groan slipped from his lips involuntarily. He placed his hands on her ass, squeezing vigorously as he bottomed out in her.

Opal began to rock her hips and Adrian joined her, gradually increasing his pace. Feminine moans came from behind Opal’s mass of glossy black hair, where her face rested on one of his pillows. Adrian pistoned in and out of where their hip met. His shame had vanished, consumed by the carnal need to plow the woman beneath him.

Adrian began to draw close, and without anyone to impress he let the sensation grow stronger. With one final push, he buried himself inside of Opal, vibrating against her as he came. Opal ground her hips back against him and let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.

As soon as his climax had ended Adrian became awash in self-awareness. He didn’t even know the woman he was inside of. Pulling himself out of her, Adrian stumbled off of his bed and rushed to discard his used condom. He floundered as he looked for his pants, trying to get dressed as quickly as possible. For her part, Opal carefully picked herself and smoothed down her dress.

“So, um…” Adrian muttered as he zipped up his pants. “That’s it then.” He had no idea what to say.

Thankfully, Opal breezed right past his awkward attempt at conversation and fetched her shoes. “Call me if you want to do this again,” she said as she slipped them on. “You know my number.”

“Um, yeah. If it comes up.” Adrian stood around uncomfortably as she finished.

When she was done Opal stood and walked to the door, hips swaying in an exaggerated step, then turned her head around and batted her eyes. “Nice to meet you.” Then she turned the handle and disappeared out to the courtyard, the door shutting behind her.

Adrian let out his breath and sank into his recliner, head resting in his hands. At least it was over now, he thought. He had enjoyed it more than he’d planned to, at least in the moment. It made him feel dirty, completely at odds with his self-image. He winced thinking about what Opal had to think of him, just another one of the sad, gross men that made up her client base. He wanted to be better than that. His only consolation was that he had done it for a reason. He hoped it was worth it.