FicWad

Doe-eyes
By Rogue_Nation1

Disclaimer: No profit is being made of this piece of work.

Summary: Dwight meets Shellie for the first time and contemplates his attraction to her
Rating: NC-17


This corner of Kadie's my corner.

My eyes are focus onto the stage where the vixen Nancy is dancing.

I take another swing of beer before I'm out.

The barmaid walks up to me. She's either new here or I've never noticed before. In any case, I notice her now.

It's not that body. Or the golden locks of dyed hair.

It's her eyes that catch me. Doe-eyes I'd call them. And that smile, sweeter than I've ever seen before.

"What'll be stranger?" she says, ripping a line straight from the books of the Old Wild West.

I tell her, "Whiskey. The hard kind."

Another smile. She turns and leaves.

I'm sitting, wondering if what I felt was just a passing urge.

Moments pass as I dwell on that thought. She comes back. I read her name tag as she leans over to give me my glass.

Shellie.

She leaves.




Another night.

I'm back in town. Back at Kadie's. Nancy's just finished working the crowd and I'm having trouble breathing. My pants feel like they're one size too tight, but the bathroom stalls are probably full by now.

So I sit, calming myself down before Shellie walks over again.

She smiles at me and plants my whiskey down in front of me before I even ask.

"It's on the house, sugar."

Sugar.

She walks away with me watching.




I lay awake that night on a squeaky, crusty bed in some godforsaken hotel around one of the god-forgotten ill corners of Sin City.

My eyes focused on the stains on the ceiling.

And all I could think about was what Shellie had said.

Sugar.




I'm downing my seventh beer. I've been to Kadie's non-stop this week. But my eyes aren't on Nancy. They're shifting around the room occasionally spotting Shellie.

She's smiling with other customers.

I'm taking quick glances at her.

The collar of my shirt feels tight.

She sees me. Walks over.

"What'll be, Dwight? Whiskey again tonight?"

"No. Not tonight, Shellie." She looks surprise. I take a deep mental breath before telling her what I wanted. "Actually I came for you."

"Me?" More surprised.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the keys to the motel I'm staying at. She watches as I placed them on the edge of the table.

"Here are the keys to my room." I tell her the place.

She eyes me suspiciously. "Yeah," she says, in a squeaky voice, "the one over at 7th street."

"Yeah," I tell her my room number and add, "I'll be there all night. If you don't come, I'll understand." I drink the last drop of beer from my glass.

She's looking at me, a little stunned at my proposition, as if she didn't expect it.

I put down the tab, grab my coat and leave, unsure of what I was trying to accomplish in there with Shellie. Unsure, even, of what I wanted.

Whatever the case, what's done is done.




I nearly cut myself shaving. The light's too goddamn dim in here. So dark in fact, I have to light a candle and place it on the side of the sink in order to see my reflection in that dirty mirror.

I lift my throat up and shave off the last remaining spot before I stilled, hearing the locks of the door.

It opens and closes.

I towel off my face, listening to the light footsteps stalling near the entrance of the door, as if uncertain of whether or not this is the right place.

I grab the candle and walk out of the bathroom to see Shellie standing there. Thick raincoat on, her hair's a little bit wet.

She looks at me, eyes wide, apprehensive.

"Hey," she manages.

I place the candle on the side of the bed.

"I didn't know if this was the right place, you know. Thought I misheard the numbers or something," she's babbling. Nervousness was apparent in her voice. "Anyways, I'm so glad I got it right. I just..."

She's talking, but I don't hear her. I simply walk up and stand in front of her, looking down at her.

She stops talking.

Shellie's a small girl. She has to tilt her head a ways back to see me.

"Dwight?"

I don't answer. I just lean down and kiss her. One long, deep, and passionate kiss.

She lets out small squeak.

I grab her shoulders and slip my tongue inside her mouth to explore her.

I feel her stiffen in surprised. She places her hand on mine and, for a split second, I was afraid she was going to pull them off her.

Instead, I feel her shoulder slump. She's relaxed. Even tilts her head to the side, actively kissing me back.

Her arms encircle my neck and pull me down closer to her.

We're kissing like there's no tomorrow, my hands in her wet and matted hair.

She runs her fingers up and down my back, while I'm working my way under her shirt.

Her skin is warm. Alive. Soft.

We're making our way to that squeaky and crusted old bed.

She's down, on her back, on the bed.

I fall ontop of her. My hands supporting my weight on the side of her, preventing me from squashing her.

Shellie's reaches down and I lift my arms up so she call my shirt over my head.

I kiss the side of her neck and listen to her giggle.

My lips slide lower till I'm in between her breast. I'm feeling the rapid motion of her breathing .

I stop just long enough for her to take off her shirt before kissing her again on the mouth.

Our tongues dance passionately as she reaches down, unhooks my belt and undoes my zippers. I do the same to her.

Our clothing discarded on the floor.

I grab Shellie and place her so that her head is on the pillows. Never once not kissing her.

My hand reaches over and I blindly rummage around the drawer on the side of the bed. I find that goddamn condom, and not a moment too soon.

I tear it open and put it on.

Her legs shift, opening up to me and I'm in her within seconds.

I'm groaning. The feelings so good I'm on the verge of passing out.

She's grunting with my every thrust and I don't waste time. I'm plunging in and out, falling further and further into that abyss of nothingness with her.

I open my eyes and see her arms above her head. She's gripping, knuckles white, on the bars of the headboard. Her eyes were squeeze tightly shut.

My hands are all over the place in a frenzy. Eventually, my fingertips find its way to her sensitive core, and I know exactly where to touch.

Shellie tightens up. She quickly lets go of the bars of the headboard and reaches over to grab my shoulders. I wince in pain when her nails digs in. Deep. Her mouth is parted and her eyes are open in surprise as her orgasm overtakes her.

She closes her eyes.

I panic.

"NO!" I tell her between my gritted teeth, still thrusting in a mad rhythm. "Open your eyes, Shellie," I commanded her.

I desperately needed her to open her eyes. Desperately needed to see those beautiful doe-eyes of hers. Desperately needed her to be with me when I came.

"Look at me, Shellie. Open your eyes." I commanded again, with every thrust.

And she did.

I feel the sweat dripping from down my body as I'm going at it like a madman. She's gripping me tightly.

With a roar, I came. My body tightening at the explosion of white light and absolute pleasure. And I swear, for that second...I touched God.

I'm blacking out. I can tell. Shellie's watching me, her chest heaving as she came back to herself.

All I can see before the sweet arms of sleep came to me is Shellie's eyes.

Those beautiful doe-eyes of hers.




Shellie's a different type of woman than I've known before.

She's not a Goddess like Nancy was.

Her hair's stiff from all the numerous times she's used cheap hair dye.

She's not really all that bright. Her eyes weren't as sharp as Gail.

But she was sweet.

Sugar sweet.

Not the type of woman you wanted to have sex with.

Not the type of woman who you'd fuck.

She was the type of woman you made love too. Each and every time.

I'm thinking these things as I'm kissing her neck, waking up from my nap. She smiles at me and I'm thankful to have her here with me.

"So, I'm guessing I give you your keys back now." She's testing me, her eyes hopeful.

I smile, a genuine smile, "No. You keep it."