Stupid Young Whore: Chapter 1

Stupid Young Whore

He fought hard to believe if what he had been noticing for a while now was true. It was difficult to conceive it would be that easy, easier to believe there was a catch. Daniel was twenty-eight years old and had had his fair share of flings and relationships, but nothing that would stick; nothing the way he’d have really hoped for. He felt his life was short of excitement, short of what he looked for in someone. Then, Diana appeared, and everything changed.

She was his soon-to-be step-sister, and he remembered having to admit to himself he’d have a hard time avoiding constantly looking at the girl. A little more than twelve years younger than him, soon to get her first driver’s license, Diana had a beautiful body, lean but curvy where it mattered, with toned legs even if the girl had never stepped onto a gym floor for once in her entire life. Her skin had a perpetual and very light tan that was a perfect combination with the wavy and luscious long brown hair that cascaded down her back. Full cheeks that constantly blushed, full lips that were always temptingly red, long thick lashes that covered her chocolate-colored eyes completely every time she looked down, her face was gorgeously cute. He remembered seeing her for the first time and mentally cursing. Too beautiful, too young, too close. Too inaccessible, he thought, a temptation that would be forever close enough to touch, impossible to satiate.

He was confused at first by how sweetly Diana started treating him soon after his mother introduced them when they once went out to dinner. After hearing all the bad things insinuated about the girl, he was expecting the opposite. Diana wanted nothing out of life. She wanted it easy. The girl was disrespectful. Nothing conclusive, no facts, but his mom seemed to have taken her new boyfriend’s side and secretly loathed the girl. Diana and her father barely spoke to each other; apparently, what seemed to have been an outstandingly authoritative posture all along from her dad, had grown into some kind of disgust, them not seeing eye to eye anymore. That was another surprise to Daniel since he had met Gregory and, apart from calling him Danny, what he hated, the two got along just fine. From his perspective, the guy seemed to be a nice person, just a little too rough around the edges, a man old style. Exactly how Daniel’s dad used to be and precisely why he believed Leda, his mother, had fallen for him.

After getting a short, rude response from her father or indifference from his new girlfriend – what constantly happened -, Diana would look down in melancholy, then turn to Daniel. That would happen once and again as if he were her safe place to run whenever he was around.

He guided his thoughts toward the possibility she just wanted a big brother. He had been nothing other than pleasant to her, so why not, he thought. But the way she looked at him, the way she moved around him, the way she spoke to him at times, it was a telltale he didn’t want to believe in:

“How come you’re not married?” Diana asked one day. Daniel had visited them for brunch while already wearing his suit, his jet black hair stylishly combed to the side; she had shot the question right after he left the phone with his paralegal. He had noticed her secretly looking at him up and down.

“It just didn’t happen,” he answered and left it at that.

For three months, he had met her five times, and the same situation would happen every time. They would sit the four of them, and while their parents ignored the girl or gave her judging glances, she would subtly try to be closer to him, even physically, always sitting around him somehow.

A month later, when he came to spend the night at their place, he found out her trying to be the center of his attention wasn’t dependent on anyone else’s presence. She would always be close, always try to talk with him about something she believed would be of his interest. Diana commented on his sports car, acidly criticized movies she would otherwise like, and tried to understand legal procedures; he knew she would try anything to keep his attention on her any time it was just the two of them as if her presence alone by his side wouldn’t do the trick.

“How many girlfriends have you had?” She asked one night. Daniel had shown up, bringing Japanese food, and his mother insisted on going out to buy sake, leaving him with Diana since Gregory was out with his friends. He noticed the girl had vanished for a while right after he arrived, only to reappear minutes later wearing casual clothes, a white shirt with a loose neck that showed one of her shoulders, making the bra strap visible. The black, comfortable shorts were made of something that looked like satin, falling softly and not covering more than the top part of her beautiful legs. Mentally, he held his breath, especially after noticing she was wearing makeup.

“Enough,” he answered, trying not to show how much he liked the sight of her.

Every time they were by themselves, she would get personal quickly, and he would evade her questions with short answers that clearly got her frustrated, but he thought that was for the best. He didn’t want to be a scapegoat for her problem with her father, not get himself flirting while knowing that would bring nothing but trouble. However, he would fix things quickly by asking her trivial questions, making himself present for her but drawing a line. He liked the girl, empathized with her, and loved how she switched from a submissive, melancholic tone to an excited one whenever he’d throw her a bone. But he was old enough to recognize she was just a troubled teenager trying her reach, testing her powers. Nothing would come out of that, nothing that could last, at least. Nothing other than trouble.

While eating, Daniel winced at the sake, not to his taste. Diana looked temptingly at the bottle but didn’t dare to ask for some. Leda told him they had the scotch he liked, but they agreed it wouldn’t go down well with sushi, maybe later. Gregory joined them at dinner; he didn’t look that drunk at first, but after some shots of scotch with Daniel soon called it a night. Diana had gone to the couch in the living room soon as her father walked in, lying there scrolling down on her phone, looking as miserable as always, which made Daniel squirm inside. Leda invited him to stay for the night since his place was a good forty minutes away, he had had some drinks already, and it was late.

“Tomorrow is Saturday. Do you work?” She asked him while already on her feet and cleaning dishes like the excellent housewife she always was. Daniel felt very weird with the scene, reminiscing when he was younger, and she’d do everything by herself while his douchebag of a father would stay on the couch, still drinking, watching football.

“No. I have some case files to go over, but I have them in my car since I came straight from work,” he said while getting up and joining her at the sink. He noticed Diana’s head move towards them on the couch from the corner of his eye.

“You don’t have to do this,” his mother insisted.

“Of course I do.”

“You worked all day long, and you’re visiting. Go back to your whiskey,” she said, guiding him by a hand on his shoulder, “I have the room right next to the stairs set up for you already,” then she looked to Diana, still on the couch, “If she bothers you, you let me know.”

“She doesn’t bother me,” he sighed, “Does she help you with this stuff?”

“Not anymore,” his mother said. He felt there was an extra meaning to that, as if his mother was giving him the chance to ask what had gone wrong, why they both treated the girl so poorly. He didn’t. It could be the alcohol talking, but Daniel had a feeling he could get answers from the girl herself soon as his mother went upstairs.

“Good night, son,” she said while giving him a peck on the cheek, “Diana, don’t stay up late.”

“Yes, Ms. Cagliari,” Diana answered, seeming honest, but Daniel knew better.

Soon as Leda closed to door to her bedroom upstairs, Diana joined Daniel at the kitchen table.

“Can I sit with you? I won’t bother you, I promise,” a clear nod to the fact she had heard them talking.

“Yeah, you can,” he said while looking up from the phone screen where he checked on court dates. She seemed shy but excited. As if she had been waiting for that moment, as he thought she was.

Diana sat beside him, not saying a word, while he went back to check his schedule on the phone. It was as if she was holding her breath, and he enjoyed feeling how she respected his presence. She would be sitting shily and silently until he spoke to her, and this submissive behavior of hers made his blood pump harder.