Mister West by R.J. Lewis (animal farm read .TXT) 📕

things to me. I wonder what his body looks like underneath that suit. I’m curious how big his cock is. With an ego like that, I’m certain it wouldn’t disappoint.

I come hard so quickly, it’s embarrassing.

Then I lay there in the dark, completely empty.

The Messenger

A.W.: How was your day?

Ivy Montcalm: It was good. Worked overtime to finish a client off. He left a nice tip.

A.W.: You sound like a hooker.

Ivy Montcalm: HA. I finished cutting his HAIR off, thanks!

A.W.: Sure, sure. I’m not judging. What else did you do to deserve the tip?

Ivy Montcalm: Nothing. He flirted a lot and it was really awkward. I have a weird magnet for middle-aged men.

A.W.: And good-looking businessmen.

Ivy Montcalm: So cocky.

A.W.: You love it.

Ivy Montcalm: Maybe. How was your day?

A.W.: Rough. Been copping flack over change of terms policy that was recently sent out. Boring shit like that.

Ivy Montcalm: Doesn’t sound boring at all. What are your plans for the weekend?

A.W.: I have a younger brother that’s going off the rails. I’m supposed to fill him with my wisdom and keep him on track. Pretty much fucked. Advice?

Ivy Montcalm: I was really terrible in my younger years, and I think I acted out because I needed more love. Negative attention was better than none. Maybe give your brother some love, tell him you’ll always be there for him. Better than preaching to him about right and wrong.

A.W.: Thanks, Ivy. I’m going to sleep. Have a good night and try not to dream about me. ;)

Ivy Montcalm: If you only knew.

A.W. : Wait, wait. What’s that supposed to mean?

Ivy Montcalm: Good night, Aidan.

Ten

Ivy

I’m grateful Ana’s buying this meal in such a good restaurant. I’m hungry, broke, and tired of Suimin noodles. I dig into my calamari like a starved fiend as my best friend sits across from me, in front of her barely eaten salad, and watches me with a look of disgust in those big hazel eyes.

“You know,” she then says, “I hate dieting, but I think I’ve figured out an answer to skinniness. All I have to do is eat with you and you’ll disgust me enough to never eat again.”

I burst out laughing and some of my food falls out of my mouth. She visibly shudders as she puts a leaf between her lips and chews it slowly.

I give her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ve barely eaten anything lately.”

“I know. You’re fading into nothing. Soon I’ll look like a porker next to you.”

“Impossible.” It truly is impossible. Ana reminds me of a fucking gazelle, all feminine-like and slender. She looks like she was made for some exotic tropical beach with that sun-kissed skin and wavy elbow length dirty blonde hair.

“So how was your Friday night?” I ask her. “Did you get laid by Franco or whatever the hell he’s called?”

“Fernando,” she corrects me, dryly. “And no. Until I get my IUD in, I’m being a responsible twenty-four-year-old and embracing abstinence – and yes, it’s as lame as it sounds. I just can’t trust these hunks to cover their dicks when the time is right.”

“They get too lost in the moment?”

“Yeah, and then it’s good-bye when the pregnancy line shows up, and suddenly it isn’t their baby.”

“You’re being bitter. They’re not all like that.”

She doesn’t look like she believes me.

Ana recently had a pregnancy scare. She’s been on the pill for the last four years and has always been punctual with it, up until a small vacation she took to Cuba where she forgot her pills. So, when she was late with her period, she jokingly took a pregnancy test. It came up positive. But when she got her blood tests done at the doctors, he confirmed she had a chemical pregnancy, and her latest tests were negative. She spent a week wondering why she felt sad about that.

She’s weird talking to me about it. Probably because of what happened to me regarding my loss. I think she feels like she can’t curse about pregnancy without upsetting me. As if I’d care… I’ve long buried that emotional turmoil deep into the ground in my mind, and I’ll never think about it again. You know, self-preservation and all that (because when you don’t think about it, it’s not really there). Welcome to being numb.

“It was good, though,” she continues. “Went out with him. Had some drinks. A bit slow for a Friday night, but it was probably insane compared to yours.”

I smile flatly. “Yep.”

“You should come out with me.”

“Not interested in getting drunk anymore, Ana. I’ve got some online courses coming up next month. My head’s not on straight.”

“You don’t have to drink.”

I look at her skeptically. “Ana…”

She doesn’t budge. “Really, I would never push for that! I promise. I’m just trying to get you away from Derek. I thought when you got back things would have improved, like maybe he’d be more respectful of the boundaries, but it seems like you guys have gotten worse.”

My stomach’s full and aching, so I pick at the remainder of my plate.

“Ivy?”

I meet her eye. “What?”

She looks about my face and frowns. “I’ve never seen you so deflated in my life. Everything about you is all wrong. You’re… different. And I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t tell you this, but… you have to hurry up and serve him those papers.”

I think about what he said the other day, about trying again. Then I think what a jerk he was the very next morning. I look away from her. I’ve had the divorce papers for some time now. They’ve been tucked in my clothing drawer for the last five months. I’m stalling.

I clear my throat and hoarsely say, “He told me he wants to change –”

“He’s said that how many times now?”

I shakily sigh. “It’s hard, Ana. I can’t… I can’t just willingly break someone’s heart.”

She purses her lips. “So, you’re going to just let yours break instead? He’s sucking the life out of