Page 26 of Pleading Innocence

Thesongofbirdsoutside my window alerted me to the coming of the morning. A yawn rushed from me as I stretched, shivering from the thrill of my bones waking up. My barely messy bed was empty which reminded me that it was, yet again, another day without Anthony and Mario. It had been a whole week since I’d seen them last and I was growing restless—not just because I was horny, although that was certainly a part of it. They promised to stop by with the lube a lot sooner so that we could get started on my fantasies. The anticipation grew like flora around my dewy garden and each day I had to wait made the tension even stronger.

Exhaling, I turned my head toward the soft morning light coming through my window and thought about how great it would be to just stay in bed. Without Mario and Anthony here to fill my physical hole, I was left to face the mental and emotional hole left in the place of my other passion—my passion for law.

It was another day without a job and another day without a distraction from the fact that I had nothing to look forward to. I checked my phone to see if I had any missed calls from prospective jobs. There were none, but there were sweet good morning texts from Mario and Anthony. At least that put a smile on my face. But it also made me horny and sexually frustrated. They were telling me how much they couldn’t wait to see me, and how all this pent-up desire was going to be unleashed on me once they were done wrapping up this new case that had them unable to leave the office for more than a couple hours or so to get back home and sleep.

I dragged myself out of bed and made my way over to the window to look out at the day. The sky was clear. It looked like it was going to be a nice day to take a walk—if I had anyone to walk with, meet for lunch or brunch, or something, anything. I leaned my side up against the window to text my best friends, Laura, Annie, and Simone, who I hadn’t seen or spoken to since I started working at Crawford & Beam or since I left. So almost two months. It was a long shot, but I sent the request to meet up at lunchtime anyway. It didn’t take long for my phone to chime in with messages from all three of them telling me how much they’d love to, but they were swamped with their new jobs.

I was happy for them, but somehow, it made me feel like even more of a failure now that my lovers were all busy at work and my best friends were doing the job that I’d worked my whole life to have. That they’d worked their whole lives to have. The difference between them and me was that they didn’t let a little bit of emotion and tension send them running for their hills. At least, that was what I was assuming, since I hadn’t spoken to my best friends about their new jobs either. I didn’t know what they were dealing with. My experience was the only thing I had to pull from. And my experience included me sleeping with my three superiors, not being able to handle the heat, and having to get out of there—which was so unlike me to up, quit, and run.

It was strange having always been so driven and working toward law, knowing I had something to look forward to, and now being in a place where I felt stagnant and afraid with each passing day of no prospects. After sending out applications to all the contacts I’d received from Mario, Chris, and Anthony, not one person saw my resume and thought I was a good candidate. I was growing more antsy and less hopeful.

At least when I was having sex with Mario and Anthony, I could forget about the fact that my life seemed to be falling apart around me for a couple of hours and a few hits of dopamine. Without them, there was only so much food, ice cream, and TV shows to binge-watch before it started to feel like I was stuck in a capsule unable to get out.

It wasn’t like I didn’t want to work or that I wasn’t desperate to sink my teeth into some law assignments. There was just no opportunity to do so. It felt like the walls were closing in on me and I was out of chances to pursue my passion and purpose. It felt like I was losing a part of myself, because that’s what law became for me. Without it, I wasn’t sure who I was or where I was meant to be.

Desperation was eating me up so bad that I was considering returning to Crawford & Beam. I scrolled through the contacts, stopping at Melissa’s extension, and stood with my finger hovering over the green call button.

I thought about sending the call off.

But memories of Jared that I’d been suppressing came flooding through my mind and my muscles. I was brought back to the days leading up to me deciding to quit, and my body hadn’t forgotten how hot and bothered I was around him. Fuck it, I wasn’t over him, and I wasn’t over the fact that he didn’t care enough to ask me to stay. If I went back now with just a little over a week passed between us, I’d be right back at square one. And I wasn’t THAT desperate. Hissing beneath my breath, I clicked the button on the side of my phone to make my screen go dark before storming out of my bedroom.

Rummaging through my pantry and fridge, I decided it was another day of sweets. My healthy eating habits were gone to shit. It was day eight of more sugar because I needed some form of pleasure, and after logging into my account on an ethical porn site to watch those double-penetration masturbation videos, I decided that it was far too much work for me to contort myself that way just to pleasure myself. With all that work, I was convinced I’d be feeling more frustration than pleasure.

Whenever I was feeling like this, nothing beat one of the guys taking full control of my body so that I could just let go and forget, getting inspired by their moans and groans to fuel my action and desire to participate. All I wanted to do was just get on top of an erect penis and ride it while one of them grabbed my hips. I wanted to look down into the eyes of someone I was sharing mutual pleasure with.

All I wanted to see was the tension on their faces and the pure hunger that had them gritting their teeth and biting their lips. I wanted to be spanked and I wanted my lips to be kissed, my clit to be sucked. I wanted to be on my knees with my ass up in the air while being drilled until my limbs felt like noodles.

The desire to be held and stroked screamed within me. What I wanted was to feel safe, to feel connected to someone in my pleasure. To feel desired. I didn’t feel like lying in my bed alone, doing all the work, feeling even more pitiful about my current circumstance.

Taking out the coffee from the cupboard made me hesitate as I wondered if I wanted to be kept awake throughout the day. Since I wasn’t sure, I set that aside to mix up some pancake batter, which was going to be paired with a whopping serving of whipped cream, syrup, and some berries for some antioxidants. A last-ditch attempt at being healthy.

The thought of eating dessert for breakfast had my heart racing with excitement, thank goodness. It was like a defibrillator to my somber mood, and I did a little dance, grateful for any amount of pleasure I could have at the moment. From the kitchen, I turned on my TV and selected the series I was currently watching on my streaming service for yet another repeat of my routine. Then my phone started vibrating.

My heart raced with excitement and I grabbed it, hoping that Mario and Anthony couldn’t help themselves and decided to sneak away for a quickie. But when I picked up the call, what I got was even better.

My heart burst with excitement as the person on the other end of the line asked if I was able to come into an interview this morning at ten o’ clock, which was three hours from now.

Hell yes, I was!

As soon as I got off the call, I stopped whipping up those pancakes, made my coffee, boiled some eggs, grabbed a banana and an apple, shut my TV off, ate, and danced my way into my bathroom to shower and get ready. This felt like a sign that my life was about to start coming back together. In the morning that I felt the shittiest, a call came out of nowhere to offer me an interview at Bronkers & Associates!

It wasn’t a familiar name. They weren’t one of the top law firms my family was connected to, but that didn’t matter to me. As long as they were legit, I was in. I wanted to be at my best because I was not going to let the opportunity for a new job and a chance to work at what I loved pass me by this time. Because one more day doing the same routine in this apartment and I was going to go absolutely crazy.

* * *

I showed up at the office of Bronkers & Associates in a new black pants suit I’d never worn before. But with a new job and new opportunity, it only made sense for me to start the new chapter with a new suit. And a complete reinvention of my appearance.

At Crawford & Beam, I’d worn a lot of skirts and dresses in bright and vibrant colors that complimented my hair and skin, and went well with the baby blue Lamborghini which was the graduation gift my parents thought screamed ‘me’ for some reason.

But at Crawford & Beam, I’d wanted the attention of Mario, Anthony, and later Jared. Skirts and dresses gave me easier access to my file-room romps with Mario. It helped me to tempt them with the subtle flash of cleavage or the tease of my legs. It made sure they didn’t miss me when I walked by them. And I was consumed with thoughts of them—wanting them, wanting them to want me. Caring how I looked around them so much I was unable to focus on anything else. Which was why I’d had to leave because I was overindulging in one part of my life and neglecting the other.

That was not the energy I wanted to carry into this new job. If Bronkers & Associates was the right fit for me, I didn’t want anyone looking at me in any way that was not professional. I had my hands full with two hot and beautiful men which made me feel like a lucky woman, and I was not looking forward to adding any more men to my list.

At my new place of work, I didn’t want to bring attention to my legs, my modest bottom, or cleavage, so my pants were made to fit but they weren’t hugging anything. My white inside shirt was high up to my neck and I had on a fitted blazer that sat well on my shoulders. It was loose enough around my arms for me to be comfortable raising them and was long enough to rest on top of my hips. My red hair was pulled back into a sleek bun and the only things I wore on my face were a tinted moisturizer, sunscreen, chapstick, and a dab of concealer in places I didn’t want to distract from the reason I was there. I went for a classic, professional, clean look paired with closed-toe, chunky, three-inch heels.

The sight of the humble office made me sigh. It was nothing like Crawford and Beam towering over the city, almost skyscraper high, with glass windows and doors in every main office. And nothing like my parents’ firm, which was similar to Jared’s, just a bit larger and different in ways—like they didn’t splurge on a massive pool.

This office had a glass window and door that looked into the lobby and that was the extent of the glass structuring.Bronkers & Associateswas written in a solid font at the top of the entrance door and was large enough for people to see if they were looking for it, but easy to miss and walk past if they were not. It had the feel of a jewelry store on a busy boulevard. Just one office among many.

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