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The Other Woman: GTA	By : Starliteyes24 Category: +G through L > Grand Theft Auto Views: 5560 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN Rockstar nor do I own Grand Theft Auto V. I do NOT make any profit from the making of this story!

Chapter List
- 1-The Other Woman: GTA
- 2-The Other Woman Pt: Two
- 1
- 2
The Other Woman Pt: Two: GTA V
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Day had faded to night. A deep night that made Michael almost rethink his intensions. He noticed his hands on the wheel and they tightened until his knuckles turned paper white. He knew what he was doing, what he wanted. Putting the car in park and pulling out the key, he looked out his window and his eyes were captured by the flashing neon lights of the sign right outside the club.
The man swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled his gaze away from the sign, reaching out for the handle of the door. Once he stepped foot outside, the warm Los Santos breeze met any visible flesh on his body, giving him a little rush.
He let the warmth of the air wrap around him and desperately took it all in. He missed a woman's touch, and he missed the warmth of a delicate hand he only remembered as Amanda's.
Michael was feeling too desperate at the moment. His heart began to race at an unusual pace and his stomach had twisted something awful. He knew what he wanted, he wanted Amanda, and he didn't like it. He just couldn't believe he was still thinking about that cheating woman. He was at the Vanilla Unicorn for a damn reason, to forget about that bitch of a wife. His mind and body betrayed him.
Once he entered the building, his nostrils were blown wide by the scent of booze, and feminine body butter. The atmosphere was a little bit cloudy, hot and almost to the point of uncomfortable. The men that he noticed looked like scums, like filthy fucking pigs; what the hell was Michael then? A lonely middle-aged man that reeked of some kind of rich guy cologne and desperation? That sounded correct! Walking further inside, Michael couldn't help but get caught up in all the damn flashing lights near the stage. The woman currently swinging around that pole looked absolutely gorgeous with the multiple colors masking her skin.
Finally he took his eyes away from the dancer and took a seat at a table in a corner. He wished he could just take a deep breath and relax. All he needed were a few drinks.
.
His watch was going on ten o' clock. "Oh, its you, Sapphire's told me so much about you, how about you come with me and I'll give you a dance you will never forget?" the light skinned beauty cooed, and leaned in to him, putting both of her hands over the arms of the chair. She was cute and very playful, but within seconds of the dance, that desperation of his is going to be dripping from his lips.
"I'm sorry but-" he was in the middle of declining the girl when the dancer grabbed on to his forearm with a smile and pulled him up out of his seat. Her mouth-watering scent smacked him right upside the head.
"Come on!" she brushed back some of her light blond hair and gave him skin tightening wink, while pulling him along with her down a very familiar path. His mind was telling him no, he was saying no, but the way his body reacted told a different story. The large guard watched as the two walked through the red curtain, giving Michael an amused look. Michael ignored it and once they were finally semi-alone, the young dancer had been quickly stripped of her hardly conceiling bra and took Michael gently by the shoulders.
"Damn those rules," he whispered beneath his breath, watching the way her blue jewel-like eyes traveled around his face. She carefully pushed him back in to the chair and he sat with a grunt, arms resting along the arms of the cushioned chair.
"Do you like what you see, Michael?" the girl asked with a sweet childish smile, already positioning her skinny self over top of him, as she began slowly rolling her wonderful ass across his lap. Michael had almost drowned out everything, especially a question that's been bugging him for weeks, years even. That fucking annoying question was, do they even wash the damn chair after a dance? Just as he dug his short nails in to the material of the arms, he cringed at the thought of it all. If Michael's thought about the chair was true, then he was sitting in a mess of other men's spunk and who the hell else knows what.
It almost began to distract him and fill his thoughts with filth and not the good kind. But he's been coming here ever since he knew about the place. No reason to fret about it now.
"Of course," Michael finally acknowledged the beauty against him, watching her hips sway and her perky breasts move along. "You smell great too," Michael finished, painfully resisting the urge to hold her by the warm thighs, squeeze her supple breasts and kiss her soft neck. She let out a spine tingling giggle that made his breath hitch and his clothed dick come to life. She continued to roll her hips and sway those breasts, looking Michael up and down. "You smell good too," she teased and let a sexy compliment roll right off her tongue and right against his neck.
Her thighs were tight around Michael's waist and the tent he was currently pitching was obviously noticed. It's been quite a while since Michael's gotten an erection from this place. A few times back in the day but he's been untouched for too damn long and now it decides to show. He swallowed hard and the woman nuzzled his neck, trailing little wet paths down and she decided to stop at his now exposed collarbone. Fuck, she was definitely getting him all riled up. During the dance, Amanda had not once made an appearence in his thoughts. He was a bit relieved about it but he knew damn well he was going to feel like shit afterwards.
Might as well live it up while he still had some kind of sanity.
.
The dance, her dance was all he could ever want. She obviously was experienced and when it was over, and all the flirtatious talking was done, Michael carefully helped himself stand, and noticed that the stiffness between his legs had finally gone away. "Amazing dance, sweetheart," Michael commented on weak legs and on his way out, the woman grabbed him by the upper arm and he turned around. Why did everyone come to Michael, his life was already fuck up enough!
"My name is Juliet and I would definitely like to see you again, think about it?" her painted nails dug in to the material of his grey suit and he gave her a nod. "Sure," he said with a tiny smile and left the private room, bought a couple more drinks before leaving altogether. The first thing he looked at was his watch. It was 10:44.
"Damn, that was the longest dance I had in a while," he commented and rolled down his sleeve, entering his car. He closed the door, thought about Juliet, Sapphire and Amanda, and punched the steering wheel but he missed and got the horn instead, alarming the bouncer right outside the door that he somehow managed to miss on his way out. He gave the guard a 'sorry' wave and started up his vehicle, staring blankly at the wheel. He was thinking again, thinking about Amanda and his life, his horrible fucked up life.
As much as Michael hated the fuck out of Amanda, he had to tell himself once and a while that he still loved her and dangerously missed her touch.
He left the empty parking lot of the club. Michael rolled down his window, stuck his left arm out and enjoyed the breeze following the road home. He knew how alone he was, and by now he should be used to it, but the pain of the lonesomeness was soaked in to his skin and it has been there for years, tainting his mind, and flooding his blood stream full of many levels of cruelty.
"Fuck," he groaned and put one hand to his forehead, trying to rub the ache away. The damn stress in his life was inflicting so much damage to his mind and body. Not long before he reached the road going home, Michael's phone rang and he hurried to answer it, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other fumbling through his pocket. He grabbed it and looked at the caller. It was an unexpected call but he answered it anyway.
"What do you want?" Michael said, his voice low and his tone tired. Michael waited for a response of some kind and just about ready to hang up, he finally got a peep out of her. She didn't sound too happy.
"I'm sorry for what happened Michael, I never meant to hurt you or Amanda, I just-I just needed someone," she took a long pause and right then, Michael could hear the woman start to cry. He knew he wasn't in the fucking mood for anyones shit, but he listened to her anyway. He wanted to hear her through. Michael understood what she was going through, he had a lonely, disappointing life too. She had a way to ease the pain, Michael didn't. And his only shoulder-to-lean on was making him fat and slowly destroying his liver.
Michael didn't know what to say. He kept the phone against his ear, but instead examined every inch of his car until he heard her speak again. "You know I like you Michael, maybe even more than that, I just want you to say something to me, I want to know that you're okay," her delicate voice could absolutely be the death of him, but he was trying his damn hardest to put that at the back of his mind, and listen to the here-and-now. Her tone was tender and caring. Michael felt his chest pound and his skin melt.
She cared about him. She was a fucking stripper and yet, she still gave a fuck about him. "Sapphire, I have to go home," Michael replied and it wasn't in any kind of delightful manner. He was hurting himself. Strange as it was, Michael wanted to be left alone.
He wanted to go home and drink away all of today and hopefully past yesterdays. "Michael, I want to talk, and I want to see you, please don't hang up," Sapphire cried over the other end and Michael pulled in to the driveway, holding the wheel and his cell phone with a vice-like grip. He wanted to let everything go. He wanted to let her go. Michael wasn't going to pour his damn heart out to a fucking erotic dancer. That was just crazy! "Why in the hell do you want to talk to me, huh, I just don't fucking understand that?" Michael's demeanor suddenly erupted in to something more dark. Sapphire had seen this Michael a few times, but not a whole lot.
One the other end, she was quiet. "I have a lot more fucking problems than you do, sweetheart!" he called out to her and put the house key in the slot just before pushing the fucking thing open. He was pissed now.
Everything was dark, pitch black, and fucking unrecognizable. He felt for a light by the door and his eyes burned like fucking hell, trying to quickly adjust to the new light. "Michael!" was the last thing the woman had muttered right before Michael hit end. He wanted this day to end, he wanted it all to end. After downing a few glasses of whiskey, Michael kicked off his dress pants, the top and laid himself down on the couch in a undershirt and boxer shorts. His eyes stared off in to the darkness of the ceiling, praying that his many glasses of booze would knock him out. Perfect ending to another fucking shitty day!
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The Other Woman: GTA