Creative Writing: A Streetcar Named Desire By J. B. Dubois

Dubois stiffened when, over the rim of his glass, he noted Lila Ross, enter the bar and walk in his direction, however, it wasn't from nerves, but excitement. Apart from the night morning he'd snuck into their residence, this was to be the closest he'd come to the woman, and this time she'd be awake, and although he'd seen her naked, with legs spread, and sopping pink cunt exposed to his eyes, he'd been unable to touch.

Hopefully, that too, would changed by dawn, and Mark could already feel an erection burgeoning as he subtly slipped from his seat, as he addressed Lila Ross. It wasn't so much elicited by thought of fucking her, but from the fact the green eyes he gazed into, had no idea that behind his similarly coloured ones lay the mind of a rapist, and the man who had led to the destruction of her
All the more enjoyable for him, when, on the next occasion they met, he could witness her expression and the shock and hatred in those luminous green eyes, when she came to realise that the man who had his hands wrapped around her neck, throttling the last breath of life from her lungs, after he'd brutally raped her was the very same one she'd allowed into her bed, and screamed out his name in pleasure, only a short time before.

"To us," he smiled, "and to those who say that the best thing way to get over one man, is to let your hair down, and abandon yourself with another, but then, why would you believe me, I could possibly have a vested, and this time, as he handed her the glass, and clinked his against hers, Mark Dubois other dropped to Lila Ross's knee, and caressed her as they drank and talked, the man chivalrousy refilling her glass each time it was half