#lois bennett

"Alright, so where is she then? My niece?" Tom asks, rolling the filterless cigarettes between two fingers, lips twitching in agitation, eager to change the subject.

"Vera's over there," Lois nods towards the corner.

His eyebrows raise in surprise. Tom had left his canary in the care of his dad when he'd returned to Manchester, following the battle of the River Plate. He had expected her to have suffered the same fate as Douglas after their house was bombed. The idea that she's survived makes him grin; a tiny, yellow beacon of light in so much darkness.

However, as he turns to look, seeing only a cot with a sleeping baby in it, his grin fades, replaced a look of confusion as his brow furrows. He turns back to Lois, eyes narrowed.

"That's a baby..."

"Yeah, she is," Lois replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "she's not even a year old yet."

Tom scoffs, chucking his cigarette down on the table, shifting in his seat to face his sister fully. "No, what I mean is, Vera was my canary. Tell me you haven't called your baby the same bloody thing?!"

A grin spreads across Lois's face, her eyes twinkling as she places a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. "Oh god, I didn't even realise..."

He tuts, lips pursing in irritation. "Course you didn't. Well, no bets on what that thing's gonna lay. I'm going out for a fag."

Rising from his seat, he plucks the unlit cigarette from the table top, and heads towards the door. He pauses as Lois calls out to him.

"Don't you want to hold her?"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Cigarette smoke envelops you, but you move through it almost elegantly, empty glasses in your hand. Tonight is busy, but that also means there will be a lot of tipping. Music blares from the jukebox as you're back in the safety of your counter. You stand behind it and start cleaning the glasses you just collected. As the door to the pub swings open and more drunk young guys stumble in. They laugh and you don't really understand what they are saying before they burst out laughing again. When the blond one of the guys comes towards you.

"Good evening, milady," he says, visibly drunk. You can already tell how annoyed you are, but you smile nonetheless.

"What can I do for you?" you ask with feigned friendliness.

He grins, "Well... First, I'd settle for a beer," he slurs. You turn away smiling, but sigh as you draw his beer. You ignore his next attempts to make you laugh. Practiced by all the other guys who keep trying to get your attention, you have no problem with it. Besides, your end of the day is approaching and that clearly depresses your mood, but distracts you. Your colleague comes in and you sigh, but you nod at her and smile. Maria walks past tables on her way to the counter, taking away empty glasses as she goes. But before you can have a conversation with her, the door opens again. The blond guy is still watching you. But now you have work to do. You grab your stuff and walk up to the man who has just entered the pub. He puts his arm around your waist almost naturally and leads you out.

He lies on top of you, his hips thrusting into you again and again. His deep moans don't make it any better. But you're moaning too, trying to spur him on so he can finish. When he looks into your face, you close your eyes with passion and moan loudly, showing him how good he is. He moans loudly and grunts as he reaches his climax. He breathes heavily but rolls off you. He lies next to you, his eyes closed as he tries to catch his breath again. Your gaze is fixed on the ceiling, trying to feel a comforting sensation inside you, or at least push away the shame. When you hear a soft snore, you slowly stand up. You don't look back and quickly disappear into the bathroom to freshen up. Even faster you get dressed and take the money from the table. Quietly you leave the flat. You walk through the dark streets. It is warm and a gentle breeze blows around you as you look up. You see individual windows that are brightly lit. The lights have an almost calming effect on you. As you reach your house, you open the door. Your eyes fall into the kitchen, where your mother is sitting at the kitchen table. She is drinking a cup of tea and almost relaxed, smoking a cigarette.

"Oh, you're still awake?" you ask your mother. You put the money on the table.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep," she says to you. She crosses her legs slightly and lets one leg bob.

"Oh, is that your tip? Keep that to yourself... You earned it," your mom says to you, looking up at you.

You hesitate, but then smile, "Nah, that's the leftover money from babysitting," you lie to your mom.

"Met Paul on the way home and he gave it to me" you say and slowly walk out of the kitchen.

"Oh well... All right... sleep well, little one," your mother calls after you.

You give her a gentle smile before retreating into the cosy confines of your room. As you prepare to lie down in your warm bed, your thoughts inexplicably drift to the memory of the forward and somewhat annoying person you met earlier in the pub. Although you cannot explain why he is so preoccupying you at this moment, you simply roll onto your side and surrender to the soothing call of sleep.

The next evening, you're back in the pub. You hang around for a while and serve the usual guests. But the conversations and loud laughter that fill the pub don't really pull you out of your thoughts.

Until the guy from yesterday enters the pub again and you sigh slightly. He walks up to you and grins.

"Hello my beautiful," he says.

You look at him wordlessly. Out of sheer habit, you try to read from his gaze what he really wants from you. Does he just want to be nice or does he want to become a next customer?

"What can I do for you?" you ask him with feigned friendliness.

"Well, that depends on what ya can give me," he says cheekily. You look at him slightly irritated, but before you can answer, he interrupts you.

"Ah, just give me a Guinness," he says. This clear and unintentional answer leaves you speechless for a moment. But you clear your throat and comply with his request.

„A pint of Guinness? On the way“, you say and turn around.

You serve him a Guinness and watch as he hesitantly clasps the glass with his hand.

"My name's Tom, by the way," he says with a smile.

"Well, hello Tom," you say, watching his face contort as he drinks his Guinness. You have to laugh slightly, "Don't you like Guinness?" you ask.

"Not really," he says and bravely takes another sip

"Then why are you ordering it?" you ask with a laugh, wanting to put him out of his misery. But as you reach for the beer, he playfully pushes your hand away.

"Hands off," he says with a smile.

"This will ensure that I don't finish the beer so quickly and stay sitting here longer," he says with a slight wink.

You blush slightly but laugh lightly anyway.

"You're silly," you say, but have to smile slightly.

"I never said otherwise," Tom says, drinking again with a disgusted look on his face.

You have to laugh again and Tom smiles at you. A hint of joy is written on his face as he hears you laugh.

"Do you have a name too?" he asks you after taking another sip.

You smile at him, "Y/n," you tell him.

"Hello y/n," Tom says, "Have a drink with me," he says.

But you shake your head slightly, "No... Not while I'm working," you say with a smile.

And tonight you have a lot to do. Almost countless guests are pouring into the pub and the prospect of making it alone seems almost impossible. But with unwavering determination, you dance back and forth between the tables, deftly noting the orders and clearing away the empty glasses. In the midst of this hustle and bustle, Tom remains steadfast, his fingers holding the glass of Guinness, and his eyes never taking his eyes off your tireless performance.

As the evening draws to a close and the tide of guests gradually ebbs, a palpable sigh of relief escapes your lips. But just as you toy with the idea of locking up, the door swings open again, announcing the arrival of an unexpected guest. Instinctively, you consider simply saying you were about to close up, but as you turn around, you find yourself frozen in shock for a moment.

‚Not him again...‘ you think.

The guy smiles at you, "Hi sweetie..." he just says and you sigh.

You turn around to Tom, who is still sitting there, and try to smile slightly.

"I have to go, Tom…," you say quietly.

Tom's gaze lingers on you and finally settles on the man who has just entered the pub. But you see Tom nod slightly. But still, you recognize the subtle nuances in Tom's facial expression that betray an unmistakable dislike, a deep lack of trust toward the guy.

Tom rises slowly and leans forward slightly. He presses a tender kiss to your cheek. In that fleeting moment, you feel the gentle caress of his breath, causing a subtle tingling sensation. It's such a tender sensation that you instinctively bite your lip, an intimate reaction hidden from all but the keenest observers.

"Until next time," he says softly.

You nod slightly as he walks past you and the guy and leaves the pub.

The guy grins at you, "Another customer?" he says to you.

"I don't talk about my business," is all you say to him.

You leave the pub and follow the guy to his flat. And again, the time with him is just uncomfortable. He is just disgusting and manages to make you feel disgusted with yourself. He never shows any consideration for you and this time is no different. You lie on the bed and he lies on top of you with his heavy body. He thrusts hard into you and grunts to himself, but not in a way that would increase your arousal. You bite your lip to keep from crying out, but you have a feeling that's exactly what he wants. When he suddenly leans back slightly and looks you in the face, you don't know at first what he wants from you. Until he slaps you across the face and you are sure that is exactly what he wants - to make you scream. You gasp, your face hurts, but you don't give him the satisfaction.

"Don't slap me," you hiss back at him. But he only grabs your throat in response and grunts again. Your eyes grow wide as he squeezes and thrusts into you like crazy. Breathing becomes difficult and you feel panic rising in you, but you can't scream. The hand on your throat makes it impossible for you to let anything but a whimper come out of you. Your hand finally reaches for his, you try to pull it away from your neck. But you seem powerless. Distantly you perceive his light laughter, his thrusts don't let up and you notice how you become sore.

Suddenly you hear him moan loudly and climax. He breathes heavily and you notice how his thrusts subside and his hand around your neck loosens slightly. While he is overwhelmed by his feelings, you don't hesitate for long and push him off you.

"Hey...", he says still breathing heavily. But you hurriedly get dressed as tears come to your eyes. You take the money from the table and leave the flat.

You hurry home and pass your mother without a word. You can't even tell if she spoke to you.

Without a moment's hesitation, you are drawn to the bathroom and the urge for a shower overcomes you. The night hangs on you like a shroud, and you had hoped that the warm stream of water would wash away the burden weighing on your soul. As you surrender to the water's gentle embrace, however, you quickly realize that the longed-for soothing effect fails to materialize. With your eyes closed, you lean against the cool, unyielding tiles of the shower, and your body slowly sinks to the floor. Tears bubble up, mirroring the gentle surge of water that envelops you. At this vulnerable moment, you can no longer bear the weight of your existence and silently plead for release.

The water has grown cold by now, and your tears are also beginning to stop. You muster the strength to reach up and turn off the water. You step out of the shower and wrap your body in the comforting embrace of a soft towel.

As you finally snuggle into the warm sanctuary of your bed, enveloped, your thoughts are still spinning. But the embrace of sleep, hopefully giving you comfort in the quiet of the night, soon envelops you.

The next evening you are again behind the bar of the pub. The absence of Tom casts a shadow over your heart, a faint hint of melancholy. But duty calls, and you resolve to excel once again, if only to escape for a moment the burden of your overwhelming thoughts. Your gaze, however, inevitably wanders to the spot where Tom sat the night before.

As you say goodbye to the last of your guests after hours of work and walk back to the counter, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. You begin to tend to the few remaining glasses, seeking solace in the mundane rhythm. But then the door swings open again, and you instinctively glance over your shoulder. There he stands, the obnoxious guy, and an unsettling sense of panic spreads through you.

"Today I have no time for you," you say immediately, without waiting to see what he even wants.

But he just smiles, "Oh come on... Yesterday was good, wasn’t it? I enjoyed it..," he says.

"And I don't care, I don't have time today," you say simply. You go behind the counter and start washing the glasses.

He comes closer. Very close. "Oh come on... I could tell you liked it," he says quietly, grinning at you with his crooked smile

You look at him angrily, "I don't know what kind of world you live in. But certainly not one where you could say what pleases a woman," you say.

He slaps you again. You gasp as your face flies to the side. The pain from last night is palpable in your face again.

"You like that, don't you, you whore," he just hisses, "You can't do more than spread your thighs."

"Get the fuck out of here, you bastard," you suddenly hear another voice say.

You look at the door, startled, breathing heavily. The pain has brought tears to your eyes. Your vision is blurred, but Tom is standing there and he doesn't look pleased at all.

The guy turns around, "Get out of here, kid. Wait your turn," he just says unimpressed.

"Oh I think it's my turn," Tom says even louder. He walks up to the guy and grabs him by the collar. The guy turns and gives Tom a swinging punch. You gasp and yell out slightly. Tom stumbles back a little, looking even angrier. His nose is bleeding slightly, but he walks back up to the guy and headbutts him. You hear it crack and slap your hand over your mouth.

"Don't ever touch her again," Tom hisses. He rams his knee into his soft parts so that the guy goes down. He only gasps and cries out slightly. He holds his balls and whimpers.

Tom grabs him by the collar and drags him towards the exit. He gives him another kick and thus transports him outside. You hear him breathing heavily and he closes the door.

He turns to you and sees the look on your face.

"Are ya okay?" he asks you. You nod slightly and reply, "I should be asking you that," you whisper. You take a dish towel and walk towards him. Carefully you dab away the blood, he smiles sheepishly.

"It's nothing," he says softly.

You take his hand and lead him behind the counter. He sits down on a chair and lets you treat him. He watches you closely.

"Who was that," he finally asks. You hesitate at first, afraid he'll find out what you're doing. That he might see you through different eyes.

"Just someone I know," you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. He nods, barely noticeable. When the blood is wiped from his face, you look at him. He grins slightly again.

"What is it?" you ask

"Let me take ya out," he says cheekily.

You laugh lightly.

"No Tom. You don't want that," you say to him. You try to avoid his gaze and feel your chest tighten slightly. As his voice rings out, your gaze meets his blue eyes.

"Why wouldn't I want that?" he whispers, sounding curiously.

"Because... that wouldn't work Tom," you simply say and throw the bloody dish towel into the next corner. But you can still feel his gaze on you.

"Well, as long as I don't have to drink any more Guinness, I don't see why it wouldn't work," he says.

You just look at him, but the smile does not disappear from his face, "That would be the least of your problems," you say quietly.

Tom scrutinises your face for a moment. The way you avoid his gaze and your eyebrows draw together slightly for a brief moment and your brow furrows briefly.

He clears his throat slightly.

"You slept with him, didn't you?" he asks quietly, "For money?" he adds quietly, watching your reaction closely. His gaze does not leave you. Your breath catches in your throat, leaving you wordless for a moment. A blush of shame turns your cheeks scarlet.

"What..? Tom... it's not like that" you stammer.

Tom says nothing for a moment and you fear that he is already judging you.

"You don't know what it's like," you say suddenly.

"When my father died and left me and my mother with this pub.... We have trouble paying all the bills and my mom does so much for me... She gave up so much just to be able to give me a good life..." you say justifying

"And so the least I can do is try to give her something back... Earn some money and..." but you can't continue. Tom silences you with his lips.

You are startled at first, but surrender to his soft lips. Suddenly you feel so close to him as he gets up from the chair and wraps his arms around you. The way your mouths meet is electrifying, his tongue touches yours and makes you whimper slightly. You don't want to miss those lips any more.

"It's okay..." he whispers against your lips after some time.

You look him in the eyes and breathe a little heavily. You cannot believe his words. You need a little time to process his words.

"It's okay...?" you say quietly.

He nods, "It's okay..." he says softly.

He gently caresses your cheek, "And to me, you are so much more than a lady who can spread her thighs," he says softly, smiling slightly.

His slight smile is reflected on your lips. Again, he kisses you. His hand slides into your hair, holding your head gently. "So much more..." he whispers against your lips.

You feel his other hand slide to your hip. He presses you against his body. Your arms slide around his neck as his other hand finds your hip as well. With one movement, he sets you on your counter and you gasp slightly.

"Tom," you gasp, but he silences you with his lips again.

You wrap your legs around his waist as his hands slide along your thighs. His fingertips leave a trail of heat on your soft skin. You gasp slightly as his hands slide under your dress. He looks at you, his lips slightly parted, almost as if he is asking your permission. But instead of answering, you let your lips meet his.

Your breathing becomes heavier and suddenly it seems infinitely hot behind the counter. You feel his hand slide to the inside of your thigh and you whimper lightly against his lips. He grips lightly and you feel the pulsation between your legs.

"Tom..." you whimper lightly and you feel a grin forming on his lips. But he doesn't hesitate for long and reaches your wet panties. He presses his fingers against them and you cannot suppress a moan. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to press your hips further against his hand.

"Hmhm, a little needy, eh?" you hear him whisper. A hiss from him follows as you bite his lip lightly.

And suddenly he pushes your panties aside and lets his fingers slide inside you.

"Well, I shouldn't keep ya waiting then," he murmurs as you moan again.

You let your lips collide with his again and your tongues dance wildly around each other. His fingers work their way into you faster as your fingers work their way around his belt. You try to undo his belt, despite the distraction, and finally manage it. Without hesitation you open his trousers and they slide down his legs. A deep rumble rises in his chest as you slide your hand into his pants. You feel his hard member twitch as you embrace it. Your hand slides up and down as if by itself.

His breathing quickens and you feel the precum already gathering at the tip of his cock. You rub it gently and hear him growl again. Your kiss becomes a little more aggressive and he pulls you closer to him. His fingers don't let up in their thrusts and you feel your thighs begin to tremble as his thumb rubs your sensitive pearl.

But then he pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his hot length. Slowly he penetrates you and stretches you bit by bit. You press your face into the crook of his neck as the almost painful feeling turns into pure pleasure. You gasp and moan slightly. Your teeth find their way to his neck and you bite lightly.

Tom's hands slide to your bottom, pressing you further against him as his hips slam against yours.

You are completely in sync, the only sound in the pub is your breathing and the sounds you create together. You are both panting now as your movements become faster and more animalistic.

He hits the sweet spot inside your depths and you moan out. You lean back slightly and watch him thrust into you again and again. His face contorts into a mixture of effort and lust. You hear his heavy breathing and grunts leave him.

You hear every sound, every gasp, every slap of your skin against each other. In the depths of this moment, Tom fixes his gaze with yours, an unspoken declaration that in this fleeting moment his entire universe is focused on a single point: you. The woman who embodies his deepest desires - who he wants more than anything.

But this moment is interrupted when his hands suddenly leave your bottom and slide onto your knees. He moves one of your legs to the side while he brings the other to his shoulder.

"God, Tom!" you moan as you feel his thrusts even deeper. But you only hear his grunts, which never fade.

You brace yourself against the counter with your arms as he penetrates you deeper and deeper.

"Fuck, yea," Tom growls as he feels your pussy begin to clench around his cock. You can't help but whimper and moan and give in to the sensation.

You cry out a little as he pushes you over the edge and the warmth floods you. Your torso falls back a little and his hand slides to your back to hold you in place. He fucks you through your orgasm, pursuing his own climax. When suddenly he groans and squints his eyes. His thrusts become more sloppy as he coats your walls with his seed.

He gasps and thrusts as his thrusts slowly subside. You look at each other, heavily atment. Until you giggle lightly. You lean forward again and kiss him, feeling the light film of sweat over his lip.

"You’re so much more to me…", he whispers against your lips as he pulls you closer again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list: