A/N: They decide to take it to the next level, but it doesn’t quite work out👇

His relationship with his mum now grew strained, but his relationship with Tina grew stronger. It was around the fourth or fifth date that they grew intimate. No longer restricting themselves to tender goodnight pecks or him carrying her around like she was his bride. It turned into full blown passionate snogging sessions, but they hadn’t quite gotten further than the snogging or even any over the clothes stuff, until one night.
They were at his home which was quite grandiose, posh and twice the size of her flat, in her opinion. He didn’t think too much of it. To him it was just a gift from his mum for his services to the brothel and a getaway from the depressing view of the red light district. For someone like her who’d never gotten past the view of the crumbling buildings that housed the brothels, neon sign cluttered pubs and filthy streets, it was Heaven! He’d given her a tour of the place and she’d just about finished praising the flat, when she felt him pin her against the wall. “What’s come over you, mister?” she asked, taken aback by his sudden demeanor. “I want you.” he whispered, his eyes conveying hunger as they remained everfixed to hers. She leaned forward slowly, but only to leave a solitary peck on his cheek like she’d done on their first date. He was dismayed, but realized there was more to it.
The tease! he thought to himself as he felt her moist lips suck at his dimple before they moved up and engulfed his ear, nibbling and sucking at it, causing him to moan. This was just foreplay, of course, and it wasn’t long before their lips met each others and their tongues overlapped passionately. He led her away from the wall, continuing to snog her while unzipping her dress, gaining access to her soft bare back. He wished to unclasp her bra with that expertise he’d gained unclasping his own all these years,but she pushed him away as suddenly as she’d invited him in.
She ran, he chased, this time pinning her against the leather couch in the living room. She began undoing his belt buckle and slipped her hand into his trousers to play around with whatever was causing that bulge on the front of his pants. This was a first for him and for her too. She’d never been the domineering one whenever she’d fucked her clients and he’d never had a woman give him a hand job or even touch him as intimately as she did.
He continued to kiss her, inching his hands down towards her lower back now. She giggled, quite ticklish at that and was silenced by another passionate kiss from him. He soon regretted his action of reaching under her dress and cupping her butt cheeks, cuz as soon as he did so, he was overcome by a stinging pain as she clamped down hard on his tongue as they kissed!
“Bollocks! Ya bith my thongue…why?!” he cried out in pain, talking with great difficulty as he grimaced and rushed to the kitchen to wash out the blood. She apologized profusely, watching as he spit out blood in the sink. He motioned frantically to the fridge for ice cubes and she obliged, handing them over to her injured boyfriend who immediately popped them into his mouth. The cooling sensation helped a bit and he calmed down a bit. This was nothing new for Ben. He’d been bitten on the tongue by his clients before- mostly the crazy ones with a freakish affinity to buccal cavities. He’d even been bitten once on the butt! But, what was her excuse? He’d only almost touched her butt. What was wrong with that?! As he pondered over this, he heard the door slam. “Thinawaith…! Well…that’s justh brillianth! Bloodhy brillianth! Greath goin, Ben!” he called out behind her, but she’d already left, too embarrassed to turn back. How was she gonna explain to him why she’d done what she’d done? The truth of it was that she’d been viciously spanked by one of her clients with a paddle earlier that day. It’d left her with a sore behind. The pain had just been aggravated by Ben cupping her sore cheeks, leading her to do what she’d done.
She called him later that night to check in on him before turning in for the night. “Again, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not ready for intimacy yet…” she apologized yet again, pulling her covers to her chin as she whispered into the phone so as to not wake her roommate who slept in the next bed. She’d only just returned from fucking a rich and aggressive regular and it’d taken its toll on her, so Tina didn’t plan on waking her up. “Hey…we’ll do ith when yer readhy, kay? An’ when my thongue’s all healedh, yeah? That’ll probably be…ow…be aroundh the thime I sthop thalking like Scrooge McDuck, eh?” he accepted her apology, joking about his newly acquired lisp just to put her at ease. She hung up with a laugh. God! I love this man! she declared in her mind, before rolling onto her side.



A/N: Madame Stronghold returns to a changed son.


Madame Stronghold

He didn’t want to wake. His body was sore from the night before, having had taken on two beasts. One of them had insisted on restraints to hold him in place while buggering him non-stop, while the other had forgone the customary lube, fucking him till both their manhoods went limp…and you can just imagine what an ordeal that was! He didn’t know how he’d gotten through the night, but he knew that his girl in yellow was partially responsible for him getting through it. He still wanted to roll up and die, but preferably not on a mattress stained in semen and dried blood! The phone alarm roused him and he sat up in bed with a groan, remembering the urgency of the morning.
“So, how was yer trip, mum? How was Paris?” he enquired, helping his fashionable mum off her private jet, leading her by the hand onto the tarmac. “Utterly dreadful! Not a single brothel there’s up to the mark, sweet Benny.” she replied, scoffing at the state of affairs in Paris. Apart from babe, that was another moniker he hated- Benny. Why couldn’t she just call him Ben? The standard shortening of his male given name Benedict. Why Benny? That could also mean the standard shortening of the female given name- Bernice or Bernadette, yet she insisted on calling him Benny…. and he let her!
“Are ya even listenin, Benny my darlin?” he was snapped back into reality as she lightly slapped his cheek repeatedly with a wrinkled, bejeweled hand. “Aye, I am, mum. Go on.” he urged. “An’ the men an’ women workin in the brothels are filthy, they are! They don’t even shave. Not their tresses, nor their armpits, neither the pubic region…The hairy creatures!” the businesswoman (that was the title she preferred) highlighted the seriousness of the matter,scrunching her face up in disgust at the memory. “Lucky bastards!” he muttered under his breath, thankful that the French ones didn’t have to undergo and endure the ordeal of hot wax slathered upon them!
“What’d ya say, my sweetheart?” she asked, overhearing him as they walked hand in hand while someone lagged behind them with the luggage. “Uh…filthy, filthy bastards, I agree!” he blurted out, thinking hard to save himself. “An’ they aren’t even trained in the art o’ lovemakin like ya are, my charming lad.” she continued, stopping as she rested her hands on his arms and squeezed them. She looked at him approvingly. She was in her heels so he no longer towered over her and she could stare deeply and lovingly into his eyes like she would a lover’s. “Well, isn’t mummy gonna get a welcome kiss, my sweet?” she reminded with a wink,placing a finger under his chin and scraping it slightly with her sharp finger nail. He stood frozen, knowing what was coming up next as she caressed his handsome face and ran her finger across his lips. Without warning, the 70- something woman enveloped her lips with those of her son’s! He found himself kissing her back in the same passionate manner. This was an incestuous tradition that mother-son shared after she returned from a long trip abroad. There was no escape from this sinful act either as she refused to let him pull away until she’d had her fill of him. The helpless man’s Oedipus complex kept pulling him back to her too.
“Hmm….Yer kissing’s improved a lot! Been practicing on the boys, have ya? Such tenderness…those lips as sweet as wine…oh! ” she moaned, smacking her lips before inching closer for another liplock, trailing her hands up his coat which fluttered in the wind. He staggered back as the image of the girl in yellow flashed in front of his eyes and he frantically wiped the seductive old lady’s lipstick off in disgust. For the first time in his sexually confused life, he saw the wrong in what he’d just done with his own mother. He knew there was just one woman he wanted to taste on his lips and it wasn’t going to be his own mother! Or even some other promiscuous woman. This was wrong. And ever since Tina’s arrival, he’d begun to see the right.
What…? Mummy doesn’t get to have seconds?” she muttered, dejected as he pushed her away and politely declined her offer. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings like that, but the damage was done. She motioned for the luggage to be loaded into the trunk of the car and they didn’t exchange a word for the remainder of the journey from airport to home.



A/N: They meet again


Nuzzling in the moonlight

The next night, he was buggered till the energy’d been drained outta him. He could feel himself being thrown around the dim room like a rag doll while he held on to his client’s body by digging his long painted acrylic nails into his bare back, being sodomized by a man with a seemingly never-ending hunger for his soft flesh and his pomegranate red lips as he kissed and bit into them…But, through it all, Ben (or for the time being, to cater to his client’s fetishes, Bianca) felt like he was far away, not even in the brothel, but across the street romancing the girl in yellow under a neon sign that cast a glaring red light upon them. He wished to be with her in that bed upon which he was flung just then. He lay on his tummy, shutting his eyes as he felt that familiar squeeze before his effeminate cheeks were pried open. As his client lay atop him, heaving up and down, thrusting into him vigorously, he drifted off to dream about her and how that one kiss had opened something up in him. Something which till then had been buried under heaps of lust.
He wasn’t himself as he walked down Soho with his mates later. They’d decided on dinner at a new Italian restaurant instead of the usual drinks since Shawn worried that he might pass out the way things were going with his energetic, Viagra-fueled clients and since Terry was always hungry after sex (who wasn’t? – the pig defended himself). Rookie Rick had already bagged himself a threesome by batting his eyelashes sultrily and winking seductively with his beautiful blue eyes and had to be stopped midway through his loud boasting as they entered the fancy, jam-packed restaurant, determined to spend their hard earned money that night. Fortunately, they were alloted a table next to the window with a view of shoppers and youthful partiers going past. But, their absent minded friend was far more interested in another view.
She’d caught his eye too, waving at him with a grin while Trish pulled her along as they followed the strict Joy-boy to a table in the corner. They continued to steal glances, leaving their respective pasta dishes untouched on their plates and hardly touching the wine. None of their friends bothered to notice and the rest of the women dressed in all their finery could care less since this was the first time Joy-boy had taken his workforce out, especially to a place this fancy just to celebrate the tenth anniversary of Madame Erotica’s London branch!
He finally got her to himself once the prostitutes loyally followed their moustached pimp out after dinner and the boys attempted to hail a cab while also chatting excitedly amongst themselves, occasionally giving the young Ricky a hard time by messing his hair up and what not. “Oi, aren’t ya comin? Don’t keep Joy-boy waitin! Ya know he doesn’t like it.” Trish reminded, calling to her as she deliberately lagged behind. “Just tell him I’m gonna be with, uh, a client. Just go. I’ll be along shortly, kay?” she quickly ordered, spotting him stroll nonchalantly towards her after seeing the boys off. She felt her pimp’s cautious eyes drill into her as he watched from afar, suspicious of this man who was walking towards one of his prized possessions. “Right. Him. Of course! Well, don’t be long…an’ be a good girl, yeah?” Trish realized, letting her be before running off to put ol Joy-boy at ease. The lovebirds resumed their romance, embracing each other as soon as the brothel owner and his ladies had sped off, leaving them to regale in each other’s company- alone, only surrounded by sweet, serenading music emanating from the restaurant and the smell of aromatic herbs that wafted out from its kitchen.
“You again. Out with friends?” she asked, smiling as she freed herself from his embrace, his fragrance clinging on to her as she pulled back. “Aye. Ya too? The moustached man in the gaudy suit – he a friend…or an ex?” he was quick to jump to conclusions, taking her by surprise with his question. “Don’t get jealous. It doesn’t suit ya. Besides, not to be mean or anythin, but I think ya should stick your own business, Mr. Business Man. Don’t stick your nose in mine, kay? It won’t earn ya a second date, ya know?” she warned, disappointed on hearing him and knowing how to tackle suspicious men such as himself. She’d encountered and dealt with many a suspicious men before: Joy-boy included. “Neither will that!” she continued, swatting his arm away as she felt him try to cop a feel. She knew how to deal with overanxious men too. Oi, that hurt!” he cried out in pain, quickly withdrawing his arm and hurt by her refusal to let him get any closer. “Just…let’s just take things slow, kay? I don’t wanna ruin things between us. I really like ya, Ben.” she whispered, her lips just inches away from his as she stood tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his lanky frame. A kissable distance and he lustfully longed to taste her, but she seemed to thwart any attempt he made at a lip-lock! “I really like ya too…babe!” he whispered back teasingly, giving in to her wishes understandingly and lovingly nuzzling their noses together as he spoke while she purred at his loving gesture. His teasing comment, however, elicited a playful whack from her!



A/N: What transpires between the two that night? A love story in the making or somethin that’ll unravel when their pasts come to the fore?

song choice: Feels by Calvin Harris

“So, ya said ya knew me from somewhere?” she reminded for him to finish his previous sentence.”We met earlier. In the red light district.” he recounted, careful not to drop her and looking quite like newlyweds enroute to their honeymoon suite! “Did we? I’m sorry, I’ve a terrible memory! I work there. I’m a, uh, a waitress.” she lied to explain her presence there. “Oh!” was all he could say, relieved on the inside that she hadn’t recognized him in drag back then and the fact that she’d turned out to be who he’d for. It was the response he was hoping to hear since he didn’t want her to know about his reality, and neither did she want to reveal hers. “Yup. Got the job to supplement my soon to flourish actin career.” she whispered, speaking the truth this time. “Ooh…really? What d’you do?” he enquired, perking up at that. “Mostly wait on tables.” the aspiring actress replied, misunderstanding his question. “No, I meant yer actin career. Might I have seen ya in anythin?” he clarified. “Nudies an’ indies so far. Auditioned for some low budget productions too. To be honest, waitressin pays better!” she confessed, embarrassingly.
He let her down gently on the curb in front of her flat. “Well, we’re here. Mi casa. Just one thing before ya go, what was a gentleman like ya doin in the red light district, pray tell?” it was her turn to question. She waited for an answer with a teasing smile that further made him nervous. “Just passin by. My home’s around the corner. My office is situated just down the street too. I, uh, run a business, ya see?” he lied, as accomplished at it as she was! “Ooh…fancy! Fancy an’ posh! I’d invite ya up, but now I’m too ashamed to. Well, g’night!”she bid farewell, satisfied with her answer and turning to leave. “If yer not gonna invite me up, how bout a g’night kiss? Gotta pay the piper right, love?” he requested teasingly, stopping her in her tracks.
He’d enjoyed his time with her, how he’d managed to keep his secret from her and how their blind date had started out bad but turned out great in the end. Bathed in the red neon light, they stood facing each other, exchanging shy glances while the malicious world around them continued to turn. And finally, the moment which would transform this great blind date into one worth remembering finally arrived.
It was brief, but just the feel of her soft lips against his blushing cheek made time stop for him! “What a relief! You’re not like some fellas I knew. They called me babe…Just cheap!” she whispered into his ear, praising him one last time before heading upstairs. “Exes? Should I be jealous?” he called out teasingly behind her, receiving no reply since she’d disappeared up the dark and narrow staircase, leaving him still reeling from their kiss.
“So…how was it? Was he…” Trish asked anxiously, sitting up in bed as her friend plopped down beside her in their tiny, suffocating flat. By her expression, she figured it’d gone great. “Too perfect? No, he wasn’t. He was just the right amount of perfect.” Tina cut in, never having had the pangs of love strike her as fast as they struck her now. “I was gonna ask if he was hot…But, I guess that pretty much covers it.” her cheeky friend retorted with a grin, eliciting a playful shove from Tina who looked like she had a permanent smile fixed on her face now. “Ya probably should’ve been out longer though, right? I mean, didn’t ya both…..” Trish asked, digging in for more deets.
“Do it?! On the first date?! Are ya insane?! What sorta girls have ya been datin, Mickey?!” he yelled into the phone as his mates called, keen on knowing how it’d gone. “Again, it’s Ricky. An’ I was just askin…Actually, the fellas are here an’ they were just askin…Anyway, I’m sorry if I…” Ricky began to apologize, while his roommates- Terry and Shawn- egged him on in the background. “We’ve only gotten to know each other.” Ben began to address their question, setting his frosty beer bottle on the balcony ledge as he stared out at the London skyline from his flat while he spoke. “Oh, but when she does get to know ya….I bet you’ll rock her world!” Shawn teased, taking over from Ricky who was proving to be useless! “I dunno. It’s different with girls. I bet it feels different not to wake up with a hairy beast beside ya for once. I’ve never known. Never gone past that first kiss with a girl.” he confided in his pals, drumming his long fingers on the ledge as he leant forward absent-mindedly.
“I bet it feels amazin to do it with someone ya love. Maybe he could be the one who finally loves me back, gets me outta this hell hole once an’ for all…” his date seemed to share his thoughts as she confided in the woman who was more a sister than a friend, as both women lay in the privacy of their shared flat at the fag end of the city. She could already feel her heart flutter with excitement under the covers. “Oi! Don’t let Joy-boy catch ya sayin that! Now, get outta that dress an’ go to bed.” Trish scolded. She didn’t want to bring Tina’s hopes down or anything. But, the woman never did trust the crumbling, paper thin walls around them, not taking any chances lest they let out her dear, happy and hopeful friend’s secret.



A/N: It’s delightful to see y’all lap up my eroticas (my other works as well). Honestly, I never saw myself writin such risque stuff. I get flustered myself when I read all the sex scenes I never knew I was capable o’ writin😁 I’m just a fanfic/sci-fi/romance writer, for chrissakes! 😅 Oh, boy…I’ve gone to a dark, dark place, haven’t I?  😘🌑 Anyway, ere’s to BenTina’s  (yeah, that’s not a good ship name, is it?) first awkward meetin 🍻


The girl in yellow

“This isn’t gonna work. I’m gonna look like a complete fool in front of this complete stranger, Trish. I know, I am…!” Tina complained as she slipped into the flowy, yellow dress that was a tad too big for her. “Oi, quit flippin about like you’re some kinda fish or somethin! Get it together! It’s only your first date. Besides, you asked to be set up with someone. You can’t back out now.” her friend/ match maker/ roommate (in that dingy room above a nearby whore house) reminded, altering the dress to fit her petite frame. “Well, that was only cuz I was lonesome. Dontcha feel that this profession…it buggers any chance ya have at a social or even a love life, Trish?” she continued to complain. “I never cared much for it, ya know? Don’t really give it much thought when you’re sandwiched between two…sometimes, five…men, ya know? Oh, well, as long as we’re paid good money for doin what we do, it don’t matter, do it?” Trish explained her uncaring attitude for it. “Matters to me. I know Joy-boy’d never go for it. What, with all the strict rules on no dating, no marital/ extramarital relationships for all employees of Madame Erotica’s, eh?” her lonely friend worried about her pimp Joy boy finding out. “He don’t have to know bout this, Tina. Now, stay still or I’m gonna end up stickin a pin in ya literally!” Trish put her worries to a rest, before scolding her into stillness as she put the final touches. “Why’d his friend insist on me wearin yellow, by the way?” Tina asked, curiously. “Said it’d help him recognize ya, I guess. It’s also his favorite colour, apparently.” Trish replied, putting away her sewing kit (mostly reserved for stitching up wounds when a fellow working lady was manhandled or rough-housed by a client) while Tina twirled around in front of the lipstick-stained mirror. “Who’d like this colour? It’s the colour of piss, innit?” her potty mouth Londoner exclaimed with a frown. “Tina, try not to talk like that in front of him, please.” Trish warned, on hearing her comment.
“Ugh…bollocks! This was a bad idea…! Shouldn’t have sprayed it in my mouth…ugh! Tastes so bad!” the man who swallowed cum for a living sputtered, as he threw away the half empty can that’d made him gag, before washing out his mouth at the sink and preferring to pop a handful of mints to freshen his breath instead. He wanted to look his best as always, experimenting with hairstyles from a pomade to a just outta bed look, before settling for his usual ruffled hairstyle: au naturel Ben, he christened it narcissistically. Dressing up for the date took longer than his usual routine of dolling up for work (and that involved putting on wigs, pulling on tight skirts, garter belts that left their red mark on the soft skin around his crotch, G-strings that were just as restraining, riding up his crotch and fishnet stockings, packing all his skin pores and freckles in makeup as thick as pancake batter and whatnot!) and he turned up late. Fortunately, so did she!
He hoped she liked her men hairless. Apart from his unruly mop, he’d waxed off every bit of hair from his body for the sake of the job. Maybe, just maybe… clean shaven could be the new sexy! he wondered jokingly, resuming to drum his fingers impatiently on the table while the waiter poured him some more of the fancy wine. His tastebuds were more accustomed to beer and he intended on rinsing his mouth with a pint at the bar next door if his date still didn’t show up. He felt the need for it melt away and his heart skipped a beat on seeing her familiar face at the restaurant window. He’d recognize those lips anywhere even if they weren’t painted bright red (she’d opted for a pastel shade to match with the dress) or that face even if it was partially covered by her side swept hair like it was earlier that evening. He flashed her a smile and waved at her. But, she didn’t wave back.
“I do look like a complete fool in this! I should’ve known…! I hate this soddin dress! I should just turn back……oh, no! Too late! He’s wavin at me now! He’s too cute…no, too cute! Bollocks, outta my reach, he is! It’s so bloomin unfair! I’m definitely turnin back….Yup. That’s what I’ll do…just head on home.” she declared after a few too many looks at her reflection in the glass, deciding the man on the other side of it with his chocolatey, amber eyes and a face to kill for was too good for her!
“Oi! Where’re ya goin?! Are ya leavin?!” he lost no time in catching up to her on seeing her leave from inside the posh restaurant, running all the way from it with his blazer flapping behind him. “Oh, curses…! He’s Scottish too?!” she muttered, cursing her stars as he barred her way. “D’you not like the place? We could go somewhere else, lass.” he suggested, his smile melting away on seeing her uncomfortable expression. “The name’s Tina…An’ I should’ve known you’d be too good for me. You’re a perfect ten…Flawless…!” she began to praise, at the same time pitying herself. “Ya haven’t seen my appendicitis scar obviously, Tina! I’m Ben, by the way. I believe we’ve met earlier?” he introduced himself, cutting in and breaking into a friendly grin to relax her on detecting her self-consciousness. He decided to remind her of their earlier meeting too. “Um…really? I don’t think we’ve….oops!” she began to reply, scrunching her face up to think as they walked together, losing her train of thought as she suddenly tumbled to the curb!
“Ya ok?” he asked, helping her up. “I might’ve had just a trifle…a smidgeon…of vodka to sooth the nerves before this date. I’m beginning to regret it now!” she confessed amidst nervous laughter. She wobbled uneasily as she stood and went red with embarrassment. “Fine. Maybe it wasn’t a scooch or a trifle or a smidgen, really! I’ll just go home an’ sleep it off. Just live a few streets that way. Thanks for comin, by the way. An’ again, I’m sorry. You’re just waaay outta my league…It wouldn’t work!” she muttered apologetically, deciding to take her leave before she embarrassed herself further. “Well, that sounds like absolute rubbish, in my opinion! But not as rubbish as what I’m gonna do for ya now…” he added, following her and keeping her company. “What’re ya…? Oi, put me down!” she was taken aback as he slipped an arm under her knees and one to support her back as he scooped her into his arms.
It would’ve looked better on a Hallmark card or on the cover of some romance novel, but on a crowded street in London, it looked awkward. He thought it’d thaw the ice between them though- An icebreaker of sorts. “Ya can hardly walk an’ it’s unsafe.” the concerned man whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck, held on and stared hard at him. “On second thought, I’ve never been carried home on the first date, by a proper gentleman too!” she whispered back, warming up to the idea and breaking into a smile of acknowledgement as he carried her the rest of the way.


LOVE UNDER THE RED LIGHT: Chapter 1 & cast members

song choice: City of stars from La La land

As promised, my second erotica Love under the red light.

Cast members:

David Tennant as Benedict Stronghold/ Ben/ Bianca
Jenna Coleman as Tina/ Scarletina
Helen Mirren as Madame Roseanne Stronghold
Ant & Dec as Shawn and Terry
Arthur Darvill as Ricky
John Barrowman as Dennis Rixon
Hugh Jackman as Joy-boy, the pimp (named after that smartypants classmate o’ mine who gifted me the moniker Queen o’ erotica😂 )


Cover page


The drag queen and his girl


Benedict Stronghold sans drag queen attire

A/N: Enjoy an’ try not to get too flustered😁👄👇

Ben walked to his flat, far from the whore houses of the red light district. He was in the guise of Bianca- the more familiar name that his clients cried out each night as they climaxed. The red stilettos were killing him so they earned a place dangling from his hands while the lanky drag queen maneuvered the filthy streets in his net stockings, earning a cat call or two from the men in the cars who eyed him hungrily and a wink from Miss Kinky Boots, a colleague who later got into the backseat of one such car. He suppressed a grin. Women loved him, wanted to shag him, although mum wasn’t too keen on him entering into a relationship with one. She’d prefer he’d rather stick to being a drag queen and entertain her male clients instead. She’d raised him as such in order to keep her business going and she was keen on no-one ruining it, especially not her son’s lady friends.
“Oi! That’s my favorite blouse! You’re gonna tear it! ” he was snapped out of his thoughts by a tug on his arm and a yelp. He looked down to see a young woman frantically clawing at his bracelet as she struggled to free herself since it’d gotten caught on a loose thread that’d come unravelled from her sleeve. “I’m really sorry…so sorry…!” still in character as he put on his soft Bianca voice and apologized, helping her out. He caught a glimpse off her bright red lips as she pulled her arm away once it was free, using it to tuck her loose locks behind a ear before muttering curses under her breath on noticing her torn sleeve. “Thanks for nothin, lady! I’m late for my job an’ my favorite blouse is ruined!” she remarked, leaving in a huff without looking back or up at him, not even recognizing him to be in drag! He figured she worked as a waitress at one of the pubs. She seemed too nice and innocent to be one of them. He hadn’t seen her around though or anyone of her likeness atleast. This was the first time they’d bumped into each other, but he was sure she’d stolen his heart right there and then, watching after her in a lovestruck manner as she disappeared into Madame Erotica’s Lounge (his mum’s rival) across the street.
He’d decided to take off early after satisfying his last client. He was meeting the boys at the club for beers. But first, he intended to rid himself of the layers of makeup.
“Shawn, I said I’ll be there, mate. I’ve just gotta shower. I’ll be right there!” he promised his impatient friend over the phone, before hanging up. “Honestly, yer ever patient when yer servicin fat arse Winston, ya bastard!” he cussed his pal under his breath for his impatience before turning back to his reflection in the mirror. Wincing, he removed his false eyelashes and wiped away the last of the eye makeup too. He put on a tee, covering up his body- red from all those hickeys he’d received during his rendezvous with the countless men who inhibited his mum’s brothel. One last ruffle of his sandy hair, before he pulled on his coat and left his little flat and set out for the pub.
“This the new bloke? Mickey, is it?” he greeted, his Scottish accent taking on a high pitch. He eyed the young man with red hair who’d joined them, in high spirits as he stretched out his arms for a hug from each of his buddies and flashed the new boy a friendly, toothy grin. “It’s Ricky, actually.” Ricky the redhead corrected. “Mickey sounds better, don’t it? Well, give it a couple days an’ you’ll forget yer own name. Haven’t they given ya nicknames yet? Shawn o’er ere’s called Rosy Cheeks…an’ I’m not talkin bout the ones on his face! Everyone who’s lookin to shag Terence o’er ere always asks for Terry Ten Inch…” a knowledgeable Ben teased, taking a swig from his umpteenth beer. “Oi, don’t rat us out! You’ve your share of nicknames, mate!” an offended Terence protested, pushing him playfully and making him spill his beer a bit on his tee. “Babe– that’s what they call me. Makes me feel all bloody cheap, it does.” they heard him grumble while he dabbed at the stain spreading across his tee now. They snickered at his feminine nickname.
“What made ya choose this job though? I mean, I was lured in. Sold off when I was a wee orphan.” Ricky spilled, although no-one had asked him. “I went bankrupt an’ turned to drugs then. Decided this was the best way to pay for my guilty pleasures, eh?” Terence recounted, shamelessly. “I dunno how I even ended up here.” Shawn muttered, not in the mood to share. “Man o’ few words. Me? I just like bein buggered by men!” Ben joked, showing off his dimples as he flashed them a goofy grin and put the bottle to his mouth again. “Seriously though? I can’t let poor ol mum starve. Brothel’s all we’ve got. Besides, got no other qualifications. Well…I could be an actor….But again, that’s a bit dodgy too, got its ups an’ downs, don’t it?” he gave a lengthy explanation once he’d gulped down the beer.
“This business is fuckin hard on the personal life, isn’t it, Ben?” Shawn changed the topic, tsk-tsking as he spoke. From his sly tone, Ben guessed his nosy friend had something up his sleeve again. “Aye. Speakin o’ personal lives, I heard yer up to yer nose in mine again. What’s this bout ya arrangin a blind date for me again?” he enquired, fed up of his so called blind dates which never went well in the past for Ben who was on the lookout for love instead of lust.
“Just give it another shot, mate. Can’t bear to see ya sulk around. She’s a real looker, real classy… Maybe, this one’ll help ya to finally come to terms with your sexuality.” a helpful Shawn suggested. “You’ve made me lose my appetite, Shawn! I’m leavin. Take care o’ the bill, eh, Ter?” Ben declared, feigning disgust as he got up to leave. “Did I mention, she’s not a prostitute like the ones I’ve set ya up with before?” Shawn called out, hoping he’d change his mind. It worked as he returned. “When an’ at what time?” he asked, succumbing with a sigh.


Bill, brooms an’ Britain: Memories o’ that one place

So, today I’d just finished clearin up some foliage near my college, determiningly participatin in the campus cleaning event that’s held here. I was the only one even remotely interested in the activity an’ was the subject o’ teasin from a smartypants classmate who shall remain unnamed (you’ll encounter a pimp character in my next erotica Love under the red light, btw, whom I’ve christened with this particular joker’s Instagram name;) Payback’s a bitch! 😈). Anyway, I shooed im off with my broom, doin like a parry or whatever at im with it before hangin it up.
Tired, I grabbed a cold one (An’ by cold one, I mean an iced coffee, not beer, if that’s what I tricked ya into believin. I’m the sober kinda girl who’d refuse a pint even at gunpoint. I dunno if I’d like indulgin in those kinda vices, anyway.) after hangin up my broom an’ rested upon a window sill at my college in anticipation of some peace ,quiet and the fresh air that this particular perch boasts of and for a place to read my book The Road to little Dribbling by Bill Bryson (he’d caught my attention via a hilarious lesson in my high school English textbook- The Accidental Tourist, and later his lovely book on Africa) Tis a book so well written with every lil British scene so well described in detail that on readin this witty travelogue, I was immediately transported to an’ began relivin my time in Britain (London an’ Scotland)..oh, tis a gorgeous, feel-good country! If there were a thing such as literary orgasms, this book was definitely givin em to me! 😋👄
Anyway, that’s all I’ve to write. I just felt like sharin that with y’all. Felt like lettin out that repressed frustration o’ not bein there right now! Man, I envy Bill for holdin a Brit citizenship…lucky bastard! 😜

Cheerio! An’ stay tuned for Love under the red light that I shall be postin soon. Look out for the pimp character named after my annoyin classmate, btw, an’ try guessin his name👋


LOVER’S DILEMMA: Chapter 16: An orphan named Daniel

A/N: Unfortunately, it’s the last chapter! Ironically, as I post this, I’m in my last class o’ stats (an’ I couldn’t be any happier! 😈) Students around me are overreactin, debatin on whether to take one last selfie with the stats professor or not…an’ now, one o’ em’s decided to sing for her (oy vey, all this drama!) 😄

A few years later:
They’d had yet another fight. Maybe their worst yet. It’d started with him returning from a 9 to 5 job like any other Tom, Dick and Harry, having had dropped the dream of becoming a professional musician a long time ago. Hanging up the guitar strap soon after Daniel’s birth, not for the baby’s sake, but because Twina’d nagged him into getting a proper job, one that paid more and cost less than that measly dream of his. Distraught and due to the lack of support, he dropped outta college as well and began work immediately.
It’d been years and Daniel had grown up into a beautiful blue eyed boy, but their marriage was still stuck in a rut. Quentin still frequented the pub, not to play, but to drown his sorrows and frustration in alcohol, which further saddened his sister. There was nothing she could do though and the couple scoffed off marriage counseling too when she suggested it.
And now, sitting at the dinner table, he stared hard with his bloodshot, pained eyes at his reflection in the gleaming steel of the knife which he clutched in his scarred hands. The very knife he’d used to cut off the crusts off his son’s sandwiches before tucking him in after dinner. He waited till the clock struck two a.m. That was the usual time when she returned from her late night parties/ flings with other men (as he suspected). And as expected, she arrived…pissed as a newt and slurring as she continued to nag and he began to accuse her of affairs. When she denied, he wouldn’t have it anymore. He wasn’t going to let her treat him like that again and stabbed her!
Daniel, who’d woken up and rushed downstairs on hearing the commotion, squealed on seeing his mum back up against the fridge with the knife sticking out of her bloody abdomen. She stared lifelessy into her husband’s icy blue eyes, breathing her last as he drove it in further. She left a trail of blood behind as she slid to the linoleum and collapsed there, her body going limp as a lump formed in Quentin’s throat on realizing what he’d done. And in a minute, he’d pulled out the sharp weapon from her corpse with a trembling hand, slitting his own throat and leaving his young son traumatized! The last cut he’d inflict upon his skin.

It rained a lot during the funeral. David attended it with Bill. They’d reconciled even after he’d spilt the beans on his relationship with Quentin to her. She didn’t want to stay away from him nor spend her life with any other man and wanted to give their relationship another chance- the relationship which he considered strained, but which to her till then had been perfect. So, they met up after he was done with sessions and she returned from her new job (one where the office hours were shorter) and visited a counsellor. They did everything together now, cooked, dined…everything a couple ought to do.
And right now, she stood by her distraught husband’s side, supporting him as she entwined their fingers, resting her head on his shoulder while he shed tears as the young man’s coffin was lowered into the grave beside his snooty wife’s.
He looked away sympathetically at a wailing Tessa, who’d never thought she’d lose her brother so early in life. Bill followed his gaze, feeling sorry for her as well. They never thought that this very woman would soon end up at their doorstep asking for a favor…actually, doing them the biggest and greatest favor of their life!
“I dunno if I can take care o’ Daniel…not with my own kid to look after. He’s moody an’ throws tantrums all the time. An’ the night terrors, what can I tell ya, David! It’s hard, after one’s parents have passed away, especially at such a young age too. I think he needs a therapist an’ I can’t really pay for one either. Single mum problems, eh?” poor Tessa shared with him one fateful day as he answered the door. “Besides, I don’t think I’m the best person to have custody of him, am I? I once breastfed my own baby in a bar, remember?” she made her case with a little joke to lighten the mood. She stroked little Daniel’s hair as she spoke. “So, ya want me to…what? Be his therapist? I’ll just check my diary an’ set an appointment, yeah?” David offered, smiling kindly at the boy who looked curiously up at him with his father’s beautiful blue eyes.
“No, doctor. I want ya to be more than that. I want ya to be his new dad. I know there’s probably a lotta paperwork involved. Ya don’t have kids of your own…an’ so, I thought, I’d…”  she revealed, suggesting that he adopt Daniel as his own.
“Tess, I dunno what to say.” David was left speechless on hearing her. “For ya to do this…I mean, for David an’ me to take up this responsibility…I mean, I…..” Bill sputtered, appearing behind him on overhearing their conversation from inside and rushing out onto the porch as soon as she could.
“You’re gonna be great parents, Mrs. Derulo. I can tell. Just say yes! An’ it’s what Quentin would’ve wanted. A happy life. ” Tessa urged, with a promise to arrange the paperwork and the entire procedure for them. Fortunately, they agreed to do so.
The women were all smiles as a tearful David knelt in front of the young boy who reminded him so much of his ex flame, cupping his face with both hands before pulling him into a loving embrace with his own promise to him to be there by his side whenever he felt lost. Whenever he felt heartbroken or so depressed that he felt the urge to cut himself, David was determined to be there for the young lad to remind him that this wasn’t the answer. He knew Bill would always be there for both of them too as she knelt down beside him and Daniel, planting kisses on both their cheeks before looking up and smiling gratefully at Tessa who took this opportunity to leave the couple alone to bond with their son.


A complete family

The end


LOVER’S DILEMMA: Chapter 15: A lust and a longing

A/N: Feeling betrayed and even more confused, the heartbroken therapist finds solace and love in his wife’s arms once more. But is he willing to let go o’ Quentin an’ start o’er?

He stood at the door of the kitchen, watching her cook upon his return. She seemed to come home earlier than him now. He wondered why. It wasn’t that he didn’t approve of it. He just found it confusing. Was it lack of interest or had she finally grown to hate her job and the long hours? He hoped he’d get to see this more often. More of her. He studied her body. Her curves through the apron and her long, waxed legs that descended from that mini skirt which she’d found in a corner of her closet, they seemed to beckon to him. She turned around feeling him press against her and before she knew it, he’d engulfed her in a passionate kiss.
“Ooh…I think I’m in love with this David 2.0!” she gushed as he swept her up in his arms, hissing slightly as he bit into her lower lip, drawing blood. “Bill? Shut up.” he ordered, impatiently. He pushed her against the counter in order to deepen the kiss and when she attempted to come up for air, he only pressed up closer till she could feel the hot steam from the utensil on the stove burn her back slightly. She felt his palm clasp hers as she tried to switch off the stove or atleast lower the heat, entwining their fingers while loosening the strings of her apron and grazing her thighs as he hitched her skirt up with the other hand. It wasn’t long before he carried her off to bed, throwing her onto it roughly before pouncing upon her. She hadn’t known him to be so rough as he pinned her down and buried his face, even sank his teeth into her supple, naked body.
At first, it was pleasurable. She orgasmed like she never had before, shuddering at the feel of this seemingly new man inside her. Christ! What is this man doing to me?! she thought to herself as she felt his soft lips circling her nipples, his tongue inside her, leading to climax after climax. She’d always thought him to be a sensitive lover, always gentle, but she knew there was something new about her husband…..maybe even frightful and wrong, as she felt his nails dig sharply into her back and trail down her back, leaving bloody scratches on her delicate skin. Scratches which he’d previously emblazoned into Quentin’s skin.
She cried out in pain, gasping as he slammed her into the mattress and began to grind into her harder, faster and in a manner that made her feel that the bed would  collapse if he continued further. He was forgetting that she wasn’t Quentin and her body wasn’t sturdy enough to take much of his pounding.
“David…Dave…stop…please…” she whispered, clutching to him and squinting through the tears as her body couldn’t bear it any longer. “David…you’re hurting me! Get off!! Please…!” she ordered, pulling her surprisingly domineering husband off before sucking in breath after breath of fresh air. He quickly came to his senses, breaking down and sputtering apologetically on seeing the state he’d left her in- dazed, confused and frightened at what had just happened as she clutched the blood-stained blanket to her trembling body and stared at him with a mixture of terror and confusion. She reached out to him, still the understanding and kind soul she was, on seeing tears stream down his cheeks, realizing he was as frightened and confused by his own actions as she was.
“I’m so sorry…so fuckin sorry! I..I  didn’t mean to be so rough with ya. It’s just that…that…I just, I can’t, Bill. I just…can’t! ” he sobbed, hugging her and burying his face into her bosom while she held him to comfort him.
“Hush now, David. I’m sorry I forced ya into this. I am. If it’s not meant to be, it’s not, yeah? I just didn’t realize it was takin such a toll on ya, love.” she apologized, blaming herself as she stroked his sweat-soaked hair and gazed pitifully into his bloodshot eyes. “We don’t need to try tonight. Why don’t ya rest, yeah? I’m gonna be home a lot now anyway. We can always try some other time. No hurry. I quit my job, so we can spend a lotta time together now. It’s what we both want, right?” she whispered, wiping his tears, tucking him in and planting a kiss on his forehead before rolling off the bed. He sat up, wide-eyed on hearing her revelation, wondering if he’d heard her right. He sighed heavily. He couldn’t hide it from her anymore.
His mind was guilt-ridden. He hadn’t been able to shake off the memories of his lovemaking with Quentin, imagining the man in her place all night. He couldn’t shake off that lusting, craving and longing for that rough and raw sex he’d had with the young man. Something he couldn’t have with the petite woman, unless he wanted to end up hurting her again like he had tonight. He hated himself as he watched her examine and tend to her exposed, bruised and bloodied back in the bathroom mirror. “I’ve a confession, Bill.” he finally mustered up the courage to speak.


LOVER’S DILEMMA : Chapter 14: Betrayal at a stag night

Song choice: Rasputin by Bonney M

“So…how are classes goin on? I can tell ya enjoy doin what ya do. Yer really talented.” David enquired, sitting up in bed with him while tucking a strand of loose hair behind Quentin’s ear and caressing his face. “I know. But real talent doesn’t play in a pub for what feels like centuries.” he heard the struggling musician complain. “You’ll get discovered someday. Yer gonna be a big star, I bet! Someone’s gonna find ya electrifyin, just like I do. Just like I always have…An’ I’m gonna be so..mmm….proud o’ ya!” the older man praised with a proud smile, leaning in to kiss him and taste his sweet lips again. “Electrifyin, eh? How many centuries ol are ya, eh? Think I’m gonna leave. Late for class again. I’ve gotta stop hangin out with ya…!” his young lover teased, before untangling themselves from the sheets and heading for the shower while David headed home with a satisfied smile.
“Oh, hi-ya, Tess! Quentin in?” he enquired, taking Tessa by surprise as he dropped in at the pub to watch him play. She was taking out the trash when he arrived at the pub where business was apparently booming. “Ya leave Quen-quen alone, ok? He took eternity to forget bout whatever happened between y’all…Eternity to stop cuttin himself! An’ I won’t have ya ruinin it for him again! Who even invited ya?!” she tried to shoo him away on seeing him. “Invited?! One needs invitations to this place now?! It wasn’t fancy to begin with….” he retorted, chuckling at her weird reaction. “Just go away! Like ya didn’t know…” she ordered, looking away as she leant back against the door, determined to not let him in. “Would ya just get to the bloomin point?! What’s goin on?” he demanded to know, his smile disappearing as he realized she genuinely didn’t want him to see what was going on inside the noisy pub. “Ya don’t have to be a bloomin psychologist to know. It’s my Quen-quen’s stag night. He’s finally settlin down. No more heartbreak, no more therapy, no more…Dav…doctor, wait…!” she replied, unable to finish as he pushed her aside and stormed in on hearing the words Quen-quen…followed by stag night.
Stag night, my arse! When were ya gonna tell me, eh?!” he finally pulled him aside, finding him enjoying himself at the bar where a line of strippers danced to a BonneyM hit upon the counter. “David…please calm down..” Quentin whispered to the angry man who was baring his teeth as he spoke and was eyeing him in a betrayed manner. Everyone at the pub meanwhile, were eyeing them now. “Is it…a man? Another man?” David asked, choking up at what he’d just witnessed. “It’s…no. It’s a woman. It’s Twina, actually.” Quentin replied, lowering his eyes as he spoke.
TwTwina?! Wasn’t she the one who forced ya to cut yerself in the first place? The reason ya were sent to me in the first place?” David sputtered, taken aback by his reply. “So, what was the plan, eh? Seduce the confused therapist, shag im, leave im even more confused by dumpin im for someone who doesn’t even reciprocate yer love… an’ if the weddin night isn’t as good as you’d hoped for, you’d up an’ come back to me- The man who was willin to give his everythin up just to be with ya? Yer heartless...!” he continued to accuse, after remaining speechless for a while. ” I thought I helped ya get o’er er…didn’t I?” he didn’t allow Quentin to speak, deciding that he didn’t deserve to get a word in after keeping silent and keeping him in the dark about his marriage all along! “Yes…An’ then drove him straight back into my arms, doctor. Babe, why dontcha enjoy the party, huh? Drinks are on me. It’s my pub, after all!” Quentin was rescued by an interruption from his bride-to-be. She walked up to the arguing men on her stalky legs with her nose in the air and her cleavage showing in a glittery gown with a plunging neckline. “I wanna talk to im in private. ” David turned her away, annoyingly. “Lord knows what ya two will do, if I leave y’all alone. Why don’t we talk in private, huh?” she refused in a mocking tone, before ushering him into a narrow room forcefully, out of Quentin’s earshot.
“Ya think I didn’t know? He’s too naive. I can easily tap his phones, bug that stinky dorm I paid for…An’ easily turn ya in!” she threatened with a sneer, palming the pen drive. They’d just watched its contents on the flat screen TV (usually used to view security footage) that adorned a corner of the narrow room. It contained enough footage of their intimate affair to turn him white as a sheet.
“Turn me in?! For what?” David exclaimed, on hearing her blackmail him. “Babe, ya dunno how many coppers I’ve slept with o’er the years to know that I’ve the power to get anyone an’ everyone arrested for anythin, with just one phone call.” she whispered close to his ear, making him tremble uneasily just with her hot breath. “Yer a…” he began, accusingly. “Bitch? I know. Well, atleast I will no longer be called the Spinster socialite of Surrey. Can ya imagine the headlines?!” she scoffed on reading his mind and tossed her head back boastfully. “Yer disgustin! Yer only marryin im for yer status?! Yer stringin im along?!” he cried out in disbelief, heading for the closed door, determined to let the man on the other side know the truth. “What bout ya an’ the ol ball an’ chain? Ya stringin her along too?” he stopped short on hearing her mock.
“Hate her? Join the club, mate.” he heard a voice second his hatred for the spiteful socialite. He’d stormed out without looking back.
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.” he muttered under his foggy breath, sharing a cigarette with Tessa, a heavy smoker who helped herself to two from her carton. “Again, join the club, mate. She’s even hell-bent to keep us away from each other. Think she’s jealous about me spendin so much time with Quen-quen an’ him confidin in me so much. He didn’t tell me about ya both either. He only just revealed to me that ya were in love with him an’ he didn’t wanna break your heart by tellin you about this.” she confessed, inhaling deeply from both the lit cigarettes. He remained silent, listening intently and feeling sorry for her as well.
“I think you should go back home, doctor. Go back to your wife. She’s the only one who can nurse you back from this. Just move on. Forget about him.” she offered him a piece of advice, putting her cigarettes out with a foot and patting him on the back in an understanding and sympathetic manner before walking back inside.