Full Circle - Part One - Francesca's Tale (502 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.67 on 4 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Graeme Porter <graeme.at.tsd-ltd.demon.co.uk> (View user info) at 2005-08-11 09:58:13 EDT
Francesca stubbed out her cigarette on the damp concrete pavement, its' last wisp of blue-grey smoke dissolving into the cold night air. She was annoyed; poxy bloody pubs, banning smoking indoors - the nerve! Shivering slightly in the night-time chill, she pushed open the pub door, and strode through with an air of confidence. Or, at least, she hoped she appeared confident; she certainly didn't feel it.
A furtive glance into the far corner of the bar room told her exactly what kind of evening this was going to be. Tony was sitting on one of the padded corner sofas next to a small round table, holding a pint glass of bitter. His best friends sat around him, two on the bench and three on the uncomfortable wooden high-backed chairs that surrounded the tables' other side. Pint and shot glasses, empty and full, littered the little table. Oh yes, she knew what would be happening tonight.
Tony saw her and slurred "Awwight babe, 'mon 'ver 'ere, gizzzkiss." She sat down with them more quickly than she would have liked, but more through embarrassment than genuine infection. She kissed him - on the cheek - and his hand found its way onto her thigh in a clumsy way.
She loved Tony - at times like this, she kept telling herself that. She loved him. His face wasn't anything special to look at, but he kept his body in very good shape. She was actually taller than him; there were only a couple of inches in it, but she was a tall woman. What Tony lacked in height, however, he more than made up for in stockiness. His bouncing job at the Jagged Edge nightclub on Randall Street kept him on his toes (which were on the end of his size 10 feet). He could be funny and charming - in his own special way - but not when he'd had a few. No, when he'd been drinking, he could be boorish, sexist, and even aggressive. But he was always looking out for her, and that gave her some comfort.
The conversation he'd been having with his mates when she walked in was about how women thought they were so much better than men, which led to the usual comments about "their place is in the kitchen or the bedroom", or "nag, nag, nag, nag, nag," or even "just as long as they've got a great set of tits, I'll put up with all the shit they come out with." The trouble was that the last comment was from Tony. The fact that she'd walked in and sat with them changed nothing, and their chatter continued. She droned it out, as usual, and turned to look at what the big screen TV was showing.
And that's when she saw Chris.
Of course, she didn't know that was his name then, but it was. He was already gazing at her with his oddly grey eyes - there was a hint of blue there, but only a hint - and didn't seem to notice that she'd spotted him. Normally when someone leered at her in the pub, they'd had the good sense to look away when she'd turned in their direction. Not this one. No, his gaze seemed almost dream-like, and he didn't even seem to be blinking.
She had to glance away, and looked over at Tony to ensure he hadn't seen her exchanging glances with this stranger. His sexist chatter continued unabated, and for that she was grateful. He was the jealous type, which was the other thing about him that she couldn't stand.
Her eyes darted back to the stranger. Still there, still staring at her, still unblinking. Was the man even alive? She certainly hoped so, because there was something about him that drew her to him.
She had to get closer. She had to make sure it was her that he was staring at. There weren't any other girls in this corner though - unless he was gay, which wasn't uncommon in that area.
"Tony, I'm going to get a drink," she said. "Back in a few minutes." He ignored her.
Francesca got to her feet, and walked over to the bar, positioning herself at the far end of the bar so that Tony could not see her from where he was. Shit, she thought, Tony wouldn't be able to see her if she walked ten feet away, he was that drunk. The rum and Diet Coke she ordered arrived promptly, which suited her just fine.
What suited her even better was that it was paid for by her admirer, who sat down beside her, handing the money to the barman in a casual movement. He just seemed so cool about anything he did. Francesca didn't place a great deal of pride in her own appearance, but what she did pride herself on was that she was a good judge of character. She needed to be; she didn't have supermodel-good-looks, or a centrefold-grade body. She didn't get great marks at school, but she studied hard, and worked hard, and chose her friends and boyfriends with some care.
"Hi, thanks for the drink," she began. Lame, lame, lame! He said nothing. Damn it! "I noticed you looking at me earlier. You *were* looking at *me*, weren't you?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry." An odd accent; English, certainly, but his voice was calming, and she listened intently. His thick, wavy black hair caught the pale light from the strip light on the ceiling, and it positively gleamed. She found herself staring just too long, and stammered a reply.
"N-no, it's, uh, ok - I just, I mean... Nobody ever stares at *me* in that way." Oh no! Now I sound needy! Shit!
"I can't see any reason why not. You're very pretty." She felt herself melting into his words again. What was happening? Tony! Was Tony looking? No. That's fine.
"..." she couldn't think of anything to say. She opened her mouth as though to speak, and nothing. She closed it again, and smiled, cheeks blushing vividly.
It hit her then. Nobody had ever told her she was pretty - except her mother and father, and that didn't count. Even the parents of the ugliest of children tell their offspring that they're pretty or handsome.
Nobody had paid her that particular complement. Not even Tony. The nicest thing Tony had said about her was that she was "dead clever", and that was when she was helping Tony's little brother with his homework.
"My name is Francesca," she said, holding out her hand to shake his.
"I'm Chris," he replied, taking her hand gently. She felt the pangs of a full bladder. Shit! Not now; it's going so well!
"I have to go to the toilet. Will you wait for me?"
"Sure, no problem."
Minutes later, she flushed. As she stood up from the toilet, she heard the door swing open. She didn't like using public toilets; hearing other people's toilet sounds made her skin crawl. But then she heard the sound of a knock on her cubicle. What was going on?
She opened the door, and Chris pushed her back in with a kiss that she did not resist. The cubicle door was closed and locked, and the seat was closed. She was panicking - what if they got caught? Tony was out there!
But she needed it. She hitched up her skirt, and closed her eyes in passion as Chris removed her panties.
It didn't last long; it was too frenzied, too passionate, and too spur-of-the-moment. It also didn't matter. She was totally and utterly in love with this man. It didn't matter that she hardly knew him. She trusted him completely; found him attractive, friendly, and she wanted him, deep inside her. She struggled not to scream in pleasure as she shuddered in the ecstasy of climax.
As it was risky enough getting into the ladies lavatories without being spotted, they exchanged phone numbers, and Chris left via the window out onto the alley behind the pub.
After a few moments of rest, and a quick wash of her hands and face to remove the sweat, Francesca left the bathroom and went back to find Tony.
Tony was still in the corner drinking, though only one of his drinking buddies was still there. How long were they in the toilets? Checking her watch, it was only about 15 minutes, but she was still nervous as she sat by her boyfriend.
"Showz y'r tits, babe", was his first slurred sentence.
Francesca slapped Tony, hard, across his right cheek. He was practically unconscious anyway, but this was the final straw. He crashed through the small, wooden table, glasses and all, to the flagstone floor of the bar.
User Reviews
Submitted by highlander (user info) at 2005-08-11 13:45:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks for the kind words.
This is something I wrote while at work, over the last few days. I'll post part 2 (of 3) tomorrow.
Submitted by SPLR (user info) at 2005-08-11 11:20:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wanting to read the next part already.
Submitted by Magicaddict (user info) at 2005-08-11 10:11:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
This is good, but I'll reserve full judgement until the next part. What's the point you're trying to make? She is no different to her drunken boyfriend?
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-08-11 10:10:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good, but seemed to be lacking something. Then again that may have been the moldy bread I ate the other day playing tricks on me so I'll not be a prick.