All Chapters of Anything For Lola: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I take a deep breath to settle myself before returning for the plates. Nathan isn’t finished trying to entice me. He pinches my ass, pulling me back to him. Smelling horrid, he kisses me aggressively, making me gag. “It’s time to go, Nathan,” I say again with conviction. “Babe, I need it,” he says gruffly, pawing at my clothes. “Please, Nathan, I’m tired and not in the mood,” I don’t want to fight going slack in his arms. “But see, I can always help with that and get you there,” he moves his hands to unbutton my jeans. Daniel’s eyes shoot open, intently watching as my zipper comes down. He’s intrigued, becoming more alert in his crotch with each movement. Nathan’s hand finally pushes into my underwear, and I react quickly. “Stop it, not in front of Daniel. I don’t like it,” I stutter, shoving his hands away. “You’re being unreasonable,” Nathan says, running a hand through his hair, frustrated. I button myself back up and take another step away from him, fearing his anger. I can

After several hours of boring investment business, my mind returns to Lola. Those eyes of hers held such sorrow, not like the times before. She seemed less than hopeful about her date later with her shithead of a boyfriend. What a self-righteous asshole. He fans my anger, something fierce. How could he make her cook on their anniversary? And then invite that wretched friend to boot. I know Lola didn’t tell me everything. I can only imagine the reasons why, and I'm heartbroken for her. I’ll never press; I’m sure she gets enough of that from others. But I do want her to open up to me at some point. With a loud ring, my thoughts about her become a reality. I stare at my cell phone, seeing Lola’s name bold and bright. The anxiety I feel has my hands shaking to answer. “Hello, Sweet Lola,” I say, trying not to have my voice crack. “Hi, Miss Justine, Could I bother you for a ride home? I'm getting stood up again." Lola sounds incredibly disheartened, mentioning her inconsiderate boyfri

Two more geisha servers come in. They’re holding trays of assorted sashimi, sushi, and rolls and kneeling to each side of us. The entertainment geishas return too but are dressed differently in thinner kimonos draped off their shoulders. Each bow gracefully, kneeling before the table, and remove their robes. To say I’m shocked again is an understatement. Both ladies are beautiful in their nude displays. Flawless even. They sit on the floor side by side, lay head to foot, and move into each other. There are painted decorations on their bodies, and once they are close enough, they form a yin-yang. The other two servers begin setting a beautiful scene, starting with banana leaves and large flower petals covering certain bits of the girl’s naked body. They then arrange the sushi in intricate patterns. Again, I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene; it’s so erotic. I would be too shy to lay there myself, but the thought is tempting. They conclude the prep by placing new chopsticks perfe

“Stop it, Nathan. You’re hurting me, and you’re drunk,” I say, trying to get free. Nathan handles me so hard that the pain radiates to my wrist, and I must keep from wincing. Ignoring what I said and he pulls me closer, fondling my breast. I’m still trying to get away, but he holds me tighter as his hands are unrelenting, squeezing anything he can touch. “Why are you here, Nathan?” I ask, frustrated already. “I thought you broke up with me for canceling again,” he chides. “Then why did you come over if I broke up with you?” pushing his hands away. “To makeup, of course,” he says, sloppily kissing my neck. Nathan again starts pawing at me, trying to get into my robe, and manages to untie it. Pulling it open, he becomes more brutish with my breast, breathing heavily on my nape. “Nathan, stop. You’re hurting me,” I pull away, but he stops me. “Fine, but where were you, Lola?” he kisses me more gently and loosens his hold. “I went out, and my phone died. Sorry,” I did not mean for

“I’m supposed to ask? Tell me how when you’re so frigid about sex,” Nathan rants. “You don’t even like to give head.” How can he say I’m uptight with sex; I enjoy it when it’s done right. But Nathan practically date-rapes me every night and hurts me outside the bedroom. And now he’s saying I’m not good enough. I finally realize I can do better and am done with him and all the abuse. “Screw you, Nathan! And get the fuck out,” I finally yell, breaking his speech. “No, I’m not leaving. Now get your ass over here,” he moves to me. I scramble around the coffee table. Nathan grabs me in a bear hug, trying to hold me, but I push him away. He repulses me enough that I shiver from the attempt and gag. “Get off! You disgust me,” I say with a weak slap to his face. “Don’t fucking do that!” he demands, roughly grabbing my arm. I feel something straining while he holds me in place. I try to pull away, making the pain intensify. I can only hit his chest with my free hand to no avail. “Let me