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‘Cause, You Know, Karma’s a Bitch, and All That.

10 Years Ago…

I woke up without an alarm and stretched, feeling the sunshine warm my body as it shone through the French doors of my balcony. I couldn’t wait to spend the day with my parents. Despite the fact that we didn’t get along most of the time, I did love them and they always threw me the best birthday parties. Yeah, they always invited their own guests and used my party as an excuse to network with corporate execs and Wall Street big wigs. But, I didn’t care. They were at least in the same place as me at the same time. That had to count for something, right?

My mom was one of the top brain surgeons in the world. She was extremely sought after and I loved that my mom was a literal superhero…to her patients. To me, she was my mom and I only wished she was as enthralled with me as she was when looking at a brain scan and talking surgery and science with all of her other, super smart friends.

The house was quiet. Then again, it’s not like the house was filled with a big family. It was just me and my mother and father. Ugh. Father

I was still mad at him for what I’d overheard but it had been a couple days and my anger had lessoned. I know my dad wouldn’t actually set me up for an arranged marriage. I didn’t care how wealthy some one was, I wasn’t going to allow it. It’s like my parent’s just didn’t get it. 

It wasn’t about the money. All I wanted was their damn time and attention. Instead, I had an absentee mom who lived in the limelight with an awesome career, and a father who wants to sell me off to the highest bidder as a pawn in his game to win one of the most powerful positions he could obtain in the entire world. 

I shrugged and shuffled into my attached bathroom. The sunlight shone brightly through the bay window above the porcelain, claw-footed tub and reflected off the white, marble floors. Damn, they were always so cold on my feet in the morning.

When I went downstairs after showering and painstakingly picking out the perfect birthday outfit, I realized why the house was so quiet. 

A note lay on the butchers block island in the middle of the kitchen, which would be any world-famous chef’s paradise. It wasn’t like my mother ever cooked, let alone my fatheror – we had Eva for that. I’m pretty sure Eva was my mom’s gift to my dad for getting him to stop pestering her to have sex with him because I walked in on Eva serving up something to my dad that was something she didn’t have on the menu. I backed out of the kitchen that late night and proceeded to vomit in my bathroom. 

Eva always had my birthday off because we usually hired a caterer for the party and they always prepared every meal for my birthday, starting with my favorite breakfast: French Toast with whipped cream and strawberries and a giant glass of orange juice. It was simple, but it was my favorite. Anyway, I stared at the piece of paper which taunted me from the knife worn block beneath it. I already knew the gist of what it said because, as usual, dad left his Red Amex for me to use and spend the day however I wanted, “within reason, of course” – his words, not mine. 

I sighed and reluctantly picked it up to read what they wrote this time. 

Our Darling Daughter,

Your mother got called into an emergency surgery early this morning – one of her patients had another aneurism or something or other. You know your mother, she has to save the day!

As for me, I had to fly to Vegas for a meeting about the campaign. The election, my financial future, and ultimately yours is on the line here. You understand.

Have Eva make you your meals for the weekend. Your mother is flying to San Diego tonight for a conference and won’t be home until Tuesday. I’ll be home Tuesday or Wednesday. 

Take the Red Amex and enjoy your weekend – within reason, of course. 

Your Father, 


P.S. We hired a new landscaping company because the last one ruined your moms roses. They were sending someone out today to fix up the hedges so be nice to them if you’re even awake before they leave. 

I never did understand why they never called me by my actual name and, since they never even said it, I was quite positively sure that they didn’t even remember it. And, of course, Father always spun the situation the way he always did – blaming my financial future as the reason he has to leave me alone when I should be having my parents take me out for a regular birthday filled with family fun.

I realized right then and there that my parent’s forgot it was my birthday. I re-read the note, hoping I missed a “Happy Birthday” in there somewhere, but I was inevitably disappointed. I should have known. 

I felt the tears sting my eyes and I was damned if I’d let my asshole parents ruin my birthday. I picked up the Red Amex from the counter and stared at it. 

I was going to have the best damn birthday money could buy without them…within reason, of course. 

I foraged the fridge and found some yogurt and fruit to eat for breakfast and I wandered outside onto our back patio. And by patio, I meant perfectly manicured swimming oasis. My backyard looked like something you’d see in a fucking spa magazine. It was actually one of my favorite places to be, so it didn’t bother me that much. It was the most welcoming place I could find any sort of serenity while at home. Much more so than anywhere inside the hard marble and glass that made up the rest of my prison – er, I mean house.

It was already hot and sunny, the cement warm under my toes. It was the perfect start to a Memorial Day Weekend birthday bash. 

I finished my yogurt and tossed it into the outdoor trash bin that looked like a tall wicker basket when I noticed a man without a shirt along the back edge of the property, using hedge clippers to trim the hedges. I couldn’t believe my father had him working on the weekend, and my birthday weekend no less. 

That’s when I had an idea. 

I walked toward him and as I drew closer I admired the lean, tanned muscular back that faced me. His biceps and forearms pulsed with exertion while he used the hedge trimmer to get the few stray branches that barely grew every week. 

His plain black pants hung low on his hips and hugged the tightest ass on a man I’d ever seen. I spied the white band of his Ralph Lauren underwear peaking out slightly. I bit my lip.

If his front looks as good as his back…

My thought died in my mind because, of course, he was sinfully beautiful. Both the black hair on his head and facial hair were cropped close. Those dreamy brown eyes that seemed to know my every sexual fantasy inside my head stared at me with that knowledge. It was like he could picture what I was picturing and he liked what he saw.  He was sexy without even trying.  

He smiled – my God he smiled. I felt like the sun, moon, and a billion white stars were shining their bright light on me all at once. The dimple in his cheek was only a momentary, but completely welcome distraction. I was afraid if I stared too long, I might die from exposure. 

His abs and strong chest stared me in the face and I wanted to reach out and, after I ran my fingers over his taught muscles, I wanted to get on my knees and start the rest of my day by licking off the rivulets of sweat that ran between each defined abdominal muscle. After that? I’d find my way into his pants where I would — 

“Hello there,” he murmured, letting his gaze rest briefly on my legs, which he then followed up over the slinky, yet classy black dress that hugged my curves, where he again rested his gaze on my cleavage. 

“And what is your name, my angel?”

I sucked in a breath. Even his voice was sexy. 

But, I was prepared for this. I had studied all my female movie actresses and how they acted toward and flirted with their co-star’s characters. I learned from the greats – Marylin Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Meryl Streep and my personal favorites, Jessica Alba and Scarlet Johansen (whom many people told me I looked like). I was ready for this. 

I relaxed my posture and ran a finger through my wavy hair, tossing it over my shoulder. With pouty lips, I stepped toward him and boldly placed a finger on his lips, tugging the bottom one down with the soft pad of my finger.

“My name, is Amy Ascot. Daughter of New York Governor, Charles Ascot the Third, and, coincidently, the next Democratic Presidential Nominee. What is your name?”

“I…” His syllable came out on a huff of breath. I had shocked him with my boldness and the intimacy of my statement. My hand trailed down over his firm pectorals and down the ridges of his stomach. He felt even better than he looked. 

He cleared his throat and swallowed. 

“I am Santiago Rivera, self made landscaper, and I work for New York Governor, Charles Ascot the third, so I can send money back to my family in Puerto Rico.” He spoke English flawlessly and only had a slight New York accent, maybe Queens or Brooklyn. His dark brown eyes stared into my blue ones and I felt a warmth flood my core. 

“Well, Santiago. How would you like to fuck the daughter of the future President of the United States of America?”

His eyes darkened and he looked wary and turned on all at the same time. 

“How old are you?” He asked, seriously, eying me up and down again. I bet he was enjoying the view, half expecting me to be underage and hating that fact, yet loving it at the same time. It was the last time he could look at me without feeling weird or guilty about being turned on by an underage girl because, until I told him otherwise, he would keep thinking I was at least eighteen. 

“I’m eighteen today.” I lied with a sexy smile on my face. Oh, yeah, I practiced all kinds of different ways to act toward men because I knew, from watching the men in my life, that they could be manipulated by an intelligent and cunning woman. My performance was flawless. 

“Then, yes. I would very much like to do that.”

His eyes grew hungry and dark and dangerous. I shivered in anticipation. 

But, the good part would have to wait. He had to give me something first.

I made Santiago take the day off and spend it entirely with me. I told him to pretend I was his girlfriend and use my father’s credit card to give me the best damn day he could imagine. It’s sad, but true. I literally had to buy my first “boyfriend”. 

But, Santiago came through (pun intended).

After I convinced him that I promised he wouldn’t get fired (I had no idea, one way or the other, but I would at least try to talk father out of firing him, if he even found out about it) he took me out on the town.

 He brought me to the top of the Empire State Building after buying me a brand new super fancy camera that neither of us knew how to use, but knew that it was expensive so at least the pictures would probably come out decently. After we spent time there looking in awe at a view that neither of us had ever seen. Me, because my parents never took me there since it was “pointless to pay for a view he can bring me to for free” – his words, not mine – but which he never actually took the time to do. And Santiago, because he didn’t think that spending thirty dollars to go to the top of a building to look at some buildings he saw every day was worth it.

Then, he took me shopping on Fifth Avenue. By the time we left three stores, we were both laden down with bags upon bags of clothes and shoes and purses that were in the sizes of his mom and sisters so he could give them to them as birthday presents. I told him I loved the idea that he would suffer through a shopping spree with me as his pretend girlfriend, but that I had enough clothes and shoes to last a life time. Then I told him that it would be much more fun if we bought his family stuff that they could really use. He looked surprised at my suggestion and didn’t argue as we laughed and talked and I helped him pick out some things I knew any woman would love. 

Santiago was actually a pretty stand up guy and half way through the day, I almost felt bad that I was going to let him take my virginity. When and if my parents found out, he would surely get the boot. At least he would get some great gifts for his family out of it. Oh yeah, and my virgin pussy. I’m sure he would deal. 

I found out that he was twenty six and had started up his landscaping business when he was just sixteen. He had loved it so much that he kept building it for the past ten years making himself one of the most sought after landscapers in New York City. He knew how to cultivate any kind of garden that would be lush and overflowing with foliage even in the most boring corners of the concrete jungle of Manhattan. He didn’t even have to be in the field, but he liked to always be the first one at a new client’s property so that he could get all his plans in order. After that, he would send out his little minions that usually did all the heavy lifting. I hoped Father wouldn’t ruin his career.

After lunch, he took me to the Broadway show of my choice and, of course, I chose Beauty & the Beast. It was a wonderfully written classic tale of Stockholm syndrome and one of my favorites. Besides, I had a secret fetish of being held captive by my own beast. Someone I hated just as much as I loved. Someone whom was always faceless in my fantasy. I know. Weirdo.

The show ended late and we called the limo we had hired earlier in the day so we didn’t have to carry packages around. It arrived within moments and brought us back to my house.

We tipped him an exorbitant amount and he left a happy man. 

Santiago followed me into the house with his hands on my hips. He had gotten really into the role and held my hand all day, gave me little kisses during stolen moments around the city – in an elevator, on top of the Empire State Building, in a back booth at a restaurant for lunch. If I wasn’t loving every moment of it, I would have felt sorry for myself. It was nice to feel wanted, even if it was pretend.

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Now was the time when I would give him what he earned. And boy did he earn it. He teased me all day long. He listened to me, he caressed me enough to make me swoon and want to beg for it but then backed off. I was extremely riled up and ready for him to take the lead. 

“You’re sure about this, Amy Ascot, daughter of the Future President of the United States of America?”

We didn’t even turn the lights on as we walked in and I stared up into his chocolate brown eyes. Yes. He was the right choice. 

“Yes, Santiago. Let’s go upstairs. I’m more than ready.”

With that, I took his hand and we wound our way up the huge, marble spiral staircase to the master bedroom. I was going to lose my virginity on my parent’s bed. God knows they never slept in it. Mom was always asleep on the couch in the library with a glass of bourbon in her hands about to spill on the floor. Dad, on the other hand, popped a V and snuck into Eva’s room after he thought I was asleep. (V= that little pill that gives long-lasting erections to aging men who can barely get it up anymore.)

When the door was closed, I turned and tugged my dress over my head and tossed it to the floor. I stood in front of him completely naked, awash in the security lights that burned bright in our backyard and crept in through the windows. 

He rattled off what sounded like a curse in Spanish before he tugged me roughly against him. 

“Go lay on the bed.” He turned me and gripped my butt cheeks with his hands and gave me a little shove. I stumbled to the bed and did as I was told. 

He pulled his clothes off quickly and climbed over me, straddling my chest with his strong legs. His thick cock was already hard and he pressed the warm tip of it onto my lips. I could smell his male scent and I felt my pussy dripping with desire.

“Suck my cock, Amy.”

So I did. I sucked his cock so good he blew in my mouth and all over my tits within a few minutes. 

After that, he smeared his cum over my chest and used his finger to write his name in it, saying he wanted me to remember the name Santiago for a long, long time. As if I could ever forget my first. 

I smiled, loving how filthy he was, and groaned when his mouth found my core. He lapped me up like thirsty dog on a hot summer day until my legs trembled with a raging need to have him fill me. 

I was gasping for air and reaching toward him, trying to tug him on top of me. 

“Please! Santiago, I need— Ohhh.“ He rubbed his thick cock at my slick entrance and my whole body quivered. My hands gripped the blankets and my hair was splayed out around me. I knew my face and body were flushed with heat and my breasts begged him with taught nipples to be fondled and sucked again and again. 

“Yes.” He hissed as he slid into me. He gripped my thighs with his hands when I tensed and cried out as he broke me. 

“Oh shit, are you ok?” He asked, his eyes opening in alarm.

I tried to keep the pain from flashing on my face, but I think it was too late. 

“I…I’m okay. I’m okay. Keep going.” With my hips, I encouraged him to move again, wincing through the pain.

He stared down at me. 

“You’re a virgin?” He asked, incredulous.

I flushed and nodded, looking away in embarrassment. Now he knew. 

He leaned down, gripped my chin in his hands and looked into my eyes. 

“Even better.” His mouth devoured mine while he thrust into me again . Soon the pain was gone, overtaken by the pure buzz of pleasure resonating within my body. Yesss.

Santiago stayed the night and fucked me again and again. We eventually headed downstairs to make some food because we were starving, and since Eva wasn’t there, we had free rein of the kitchen. He actually knew how to bake fucking cookies and he was astonished that I’d never even eaten raw cookie-dough before. So, he had me help him bake my first batch of chocolate chip cookies. They were delicious, both cooked and raw.

He stayed the entire weekend and longer. We fucked on every single surface we could find, defiling my body in my parent’s house with each and every thrust, with each and every bodily fluid that we could wring from our bodies. 

Take that, Father. Now you can’t auction off your virgin daughter to some strange man.

I told Santiago that this could only last until my parent’s returned from their trips, which was supposedly Tuesday. So, he stayed with me. I called Eva to tell her my dad said to take a few extra days off, since he wasn’t home and I was staying with my best friend (not!).  We swam, we fucked, we watched movies, we fucked some more.  Plus, he actually did work and walked around the house and property to take notes while I was in the shower at one point so that when my parents did finally come back, the preliminary landscaping work was completed. After all, he was a business man. 

“So, your parent’s really forgot your birthday?” He asked one morning. We laid entwined within silk sheets, on piles of the softest pillows you could buy. He had his hands behind his head and I had my head on his chest. I traced the lines of his abs while I bit my lip. 

“Yeah.” I sighed. I turned and grabbed my phone from the side table and looked at the date and time. 

“Actually, they’re supposed to be home today. At least my mom is. My dad might be another day.”

He sat up behind me and kissed the back of my shoulder. 

“Well then, what is one fantasy you have that you’d like to have fulfilled before they come home and our little fling is over.”

I smiled, I knew the perfect one. 

When I told Santiago that the thought of getting caught or someone watching me have sex, was such a turn on, I didn’t actually think my parents would be those people. 

But, that’s how it turned out. ‘Cause, you know, karma’s a bitch and all that.

We went down to the kitchen and, after he ate maple syrup out of my pussy, he splayed me out on the counter, climbed on top of me, and proceeded to pound into me. 

The thought of Eva catching us, or the food delivery guy who came to the house every Monday morning around that time, or the pool company that was also scheduled for that morning…made my senses heighten while at the same time my mind blissed out.

The moment my parent’s burst through the door, we came together in a shuttering orgasm, moaning our obscenities. 

“What the hell is going on here!” Father thundered, tearing Santiago off of me and tossing him to the floor behind him. I gasped and tried to cover myself and my father just rolled his eyes at me when he turned. 

“I think it’s a little late for that, Amy!”

“Oh, so you do know my name?” I said sarcastically, crossing my arms over my breasts and crossing my legs. “I was sure that you forgot it. Like you forgot my birthday.”

Father looked like he wanted to strangle me. 

“Do you realize what you’ve done?!”

I looked at him with contempt. 

“Oh yes, I know that I willingly had sex with my boyfriend on the counter of our kitchen.” God, I loved egging him on.

His face got red and I knew he wanted to say something about his little “marriage” arrangement, but I wasn’t supposed to know about it. Apparently, it was all supposed to somehow happen organically on purpose. An oxymoron if I ever heard one. I found a copy of the contract in the secret compartment of the bottom left hand drawer of his big, ugly desk in his office. I read it and took pictures of it with my phone before slipping it back in and locking the drawer, hiding the key under the same book it had always been “hidden” under. 

The Bible. 


What a joke. 

I stood and grabbed my robe from the back of the barstool that sat along the edge of the counter, tying it up tightly around my waist. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to go prep for a final next week.”

“Young lady, you get your ass back here. Just because you turned seventeen this weekend, doesn’t mean you can dismiss me like that.”

I stopped walking and glanced over my shoulder. I cringed at the wide eyed look on Santiago’s face behind my parents. 

“Seventeen?!” He mouthed. 

I bit my lip and shrugged, hoping he could read the apology in my eyes while I tried not to draw my father’s attention to him. Maybe he could come out of this completely unscathed. Probably not. My dad would probably ruin his company or something terrible, just because he could. 

My father was speaking and I wasn’t listening. 

“…you’re going to pack yourself one bag of whatever you can carry and you’re out of here! Go on, go!” He thundered, pointing up in the direction of my room. 

I finally focused on him. 

“What did you say?”

He stalked toward me. 

“I said. You think you’re old enough to do things like this? To  do things on your own? Be an adult?  Well, have it your way. I’m kicking you out. You get one bag. Don’t call begging to come home. See how you do out there, in the real world.”

I lifted my chin. I knew I could do it. I’d show him. 

“Fine. I’ll go.” I turned and walked upstairs to my room where I put on my favorite outfit I owned – jeans, a Pink Floyd v-neck t-shirt, and plain white sneakers. I tied my hair up in a bun and I glanced around my room. I wasn’t going to miss it one bit. There was nothing in it that meant anything to me. It was all just stuff I had accumulated from my parents as apologies for not being there for me. After awhile, the gifts even stopped coming and they started giving me cash because I was older and they didn’t know what to buy me. They didn’t know me, so how could they know what I wanted?. After the cash, they just decided it was easier to give me a credit card in my name that they could transfer money to whenever they needed. The less human interaction the better.

I slipped out the back and ran around the house, locking the electronic, formidable iron gate behind me. I always hated how the tops of the gates closed to form a giant A at the top. I didn’t even say goodbye.

Santiago had snuck out without my parents even noticing. Father only cared that his business deal with my once future husband was now worth shit, he didn’t care about the person who defiled his daughter on the kitchen counter. He didn’t even care about his daughter, why would he care about a random hookup that I spread my legs for?

He was waiting about half way down the street, and looked relieved but furious when he saw me coming toward him. 

“Why did you lie to me?” He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. His eye blazed with mistrust. 

“Oh please, you were just looking for an excuse to fuck me. I just gave you permission. Relax. I’m not going to file a lawsuit. I just got my get out of jail free card. I’m finally free.” I gestured behind me at the prison I just walked out of.

He paused, contemplating me quietly. Searching for an answer to an unspoken question. Can I trust you? His eyes pleaded. 

“I’m not that kind of person, Santiago. I’m not going to ruin your life over the best sex of my life.”

He laughed at that, relaxing and releasing his arms. 

“You mean the only sex of your life?” He asked, throwing an arm around me and hugging me close. 

I laughed into his chest and hugged him back. It was completely unexpected but I couldn’t remember the last time someone gave me a real hug. I was so pathetic. 

“Can I give you a ride somewhere,” He asked.

I nodded, hugging him for a moment longer before I let go. I didn’t want to make it weird for him. 

He smiled and motioned for me to hop into his jeep. I thought it strange that he drove a Jeep in the city, but it was just a quirk about him that I couldn’t allow my self to wonder about. That would mean I’d be crossing a line and trying to get to know him. And I didn’t want that. 

I wanted to be free. On my own. Make my own choices. Become a self-made woman. I couldn’t do that while I created feelings toward someone I just met and had sex with who was nine years older than I. He wasn’t looking for a kid to parent. He just had sex with said kid and loved it. I wouldn’t put him in such an awkward position. 

He dropped me in midtown and I bid him farewell, telling him I’d never forget him. 

He smiled at me from the driver seat of his jeep. 

“I know.” Then he looked me up and down making me flush at his scrutiny of the tight, little not-so-virgin-anymore- body that he had ravaged less than an hour prior. Then, he winked at me and drove off leaving me standing there in the middle of Times Square with a goofy grin on my face. 

I was free.  

I didn’t find out until later. It was after I ate the perfect meal at the perfect lunch cafe out on the patio in the perfect weather, that I discovered Father had cut off all my funds. Every card I had was declined. 

The waitress looked apologetic when she handed back the now useless pieces of plastic I gave her. 

Well, shit. 

I was free and broke.

At least I knew that, despite my father kicking me out, leaving me without even a single penny, ultimately not giving a shit about the fact that I just lost my virginity to a strange man he had never seen before, my father actually did know my name. 

I was stunned into laughter and the waitress looked at me and asked if I was okay. 

I nodded, laughing even harder. 

Between giggles, I handed her one last card to try and she took it dubiously. When she slipped into the building to run it, I hopped the fence and took off before she found out it was another declined card.

But I knew. 

I was officially broke and homeless.

I was so fucked