Prestwood Claras Story Pt 02

Author's Note: All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All comments and feedback are welcomed.

HF

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Clara squinted as she made her way downstairs, the sunlight streaming in through the windows above the stairs seemed too bright, too harsh, especially for her tired eyes that had only had a few hours of sleep. And restless sleep it was. The events of the night before continued to replay in her mind as she gingerly made her way towards the kitchen. The bar, Jayden, the beach, the sex. Oh, God... the unprotected sex on the beach.

In the cold light of day, she knew she had made some bad decisions -- this wasn't her, who she normally was, or was it her true self? She couldn't deny the pleasure she'd enjoyed at the end of the young Black man's cock as he'd plundered her pussy on the Las Palmas beach. It had been incredible, mind-blowing even, but now the young English woman realised she needed to pay the price for her indiscretion. She could almost feel Jayden's seed still inside her, almost imagine his microscopic sperm burrowing into her womb, every one of them with the single-minded mission to fertilise her White egg with his Black DNA.

She knew she would have to face up to the consequences of the night before -- a holiday fling that had gotten out of control. Or had it? He'd given her plenty of opportunities to leave, to get up, to walk away. But she hadn't -- it was as if the taboo allure of having sex with a Black man had been too much to resist.

She shook her head. Normal Clara didn't do things like that? Normal Clara, the respectable young woman, the nanny for the Lancasters, the diligent university student, didn't do things like that, didn't fuck a stranger on a Spanish beach, a young Black Englishman she'd only met hours earlier -- but she had. She had done it all and wanted more.

What have I done?

The thought echoed in her mind as she approached the kitchen. There was no hiding this, she knew she would have to face her friends, aware that they would have realised that she had disappeared from the bar the night before, Jayden following her soon after. She wondered if they realised what she had done, how he'd fucked her on the beach under the moonlight, in full view of any passersby. Clara swallowed nervously -- I'm going to have to face this...

The scent of fresh coffee and fried eggs wafted through the villa, mingling with the sound of laughter from her friends as she opened the door to the kitchen. The girls were already gathered around the kitchen table, their voices light and teasing. They all turned to looked at Clara's dishevelled appearance, her normally pale skin even more sallow, her brown hair tied back in a simple, messy bun.

"There she is!" Ellie grinned, flicking her dirty-blonde hair over her shoulder. "Clara, babes, you've got some explaining to do. Where the hell did you vanish to last night?"

Clara froze for a moment, trying to compose herself. "I just went for a walk," she said casually, reaching for a mug. Her voice felt steadier than she expected. Maybe they didn't realise what I did?

"Oh, sure," Zara smirked, one eyebrow shooting up, a look of smug disbelief on her face. "You went for a 'walk,' yeah? That's why no one saw you roll back in? Spill -- who was it?"

Clara's cheeks burned as she poured coffee into her mug. "I didn't hook up with anyone," she lied, stirring in some sugar. "I just needed some air, that's all."

The girls groaned collectively, clearly not finding anything interesting to tease her about. "Boring!" Ellie said, rolling her eyes. "Meanwhile, I've got some actual news. Got the number of that fit lad from last night. We're meeting up with them later," she told Clara who winced as she sipped her bitter coffee.

Clara's stomach dropped as she processed the words. "T... the guys from the beach?" she asked, keeping her tone neutral as best she could. What. The. Absolute. Fuck?

"Yeah," Ellie said with a smirk as she tapped her nails on the table. "What's his name... Jayden? Nah -- that's the Black one. It was Jordan. A proper cocky shit. Bet he'd be a laugh on a night out."

Clara nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, sounds fun." Inside, her anxiety grew almost exponentially. The thought of seeing the young men again, Jayden in particular, made her chest tighten as if she was wearing a corset. What am I supposed to say to him? How can I face him again?

After their second bout of lovemaking on the beach... or was it fucking... Clara had pulled on her underwear and adjusted her dress. She thought that Jayden had been surprisingly solicitous given the circumstances, offering to walk her home to the villa she was sharing with the girls. She'd awkwardly declined, preferring to use the walk to clear her head, to shake off the alcohol and orgasm induced fog that had descended over it.

If he'd seemed put out by her response, he hadn't let it show, giving her a peck on the cheek and wandered off to find his mates back at the bar. Clara had made the long, slow walk of shame back to the villa by herself, passing revellers still partying in the streets, her head hung low as she contemplated the consequences of her actions.

Now it seemed like she would have to face Jayden again. Trouble was that she realised part of her wanted to see him.

*****

By mid-afternoon, the girls were dressed and ready, heading into town to meet the group of British lads. The tropical Spanish sun was high in the pale blue sky, the streets bustling with tourists, and Clara trailed behind slightly, her thoughts swirling, her emotions fluctuating between excitement and dread. What am I going to do? What am I going to say to him? They'd left on decent terms, amicably enough, but the feelings of guilt, shame and embarrassment continued to swirl inside her -- especially considering the risk she took and her need to address this by a visit to a chemist. To complicate matters, Clara couldn't deny the subtle, but telling, feeling of excitement and anticipation at seeing the handsome young Black man again. What's gotten in to me?

When they finally spotted the guys drinking outside a bar down near the Las Palmas beach, Jayden's dark brown eyes found hers almost instantly. He flashed her a confident grin, but there was something sharper in his gaze -- something that made her heart race. Anticipation, arousal, excitement.

As the two groups moved inside the bar to occupy several tables and settle in with drinks, Clara felt Jayden approach her. "Alright?" he said, leaning against the high table beside her. "Didn't think I'd see you again so soon," he said with a casual grin. He looked so cocky and handsome in an open necked shirt and shorts.

"Hi," she said softly, avoiding his eyes. Oh, God... how can I even look at him... after last night. Clara knew she had to face the reality of the situation, and she took a deep breath. "Listen, umm... Jayden, can we talk?"

Jayden raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Yeah, cool. Let's step out for a sec."

They moved away from the others, finding a quieter spot near the bar's entrance. Clara fiddled with the strap of her bag, struggling to find the right words.

"Ummm... last night..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she didn't want any of the patrons standing nearby to hear. "Look, I... ummm... I wasn't thinking straight. I... I'm not on anything. No pill, no implant. And you didn't... ummm, you know, use anything either."

Jayden frowned as he took in her words, his casual, relaxed demeanour slipping. "Wait? What? You're serious?"

She nodded, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment, guilt and shame. "Yeah. I... ummm... I need to get to a chemist today. I can't risk... well, you know."

His expression hardened as he looked at her, his posture shifting to a more defensive one. "So that's what this is, yeah? You're freaking out 'cause of me?"

"It's not about you," she said quickly, almost too quickly. "It's just the situation. It's not smart --"

"Cut the crap, Clara," Jayden interrupted, the casual, relaxed tone now gone from his voice. "It is about me, innit? Don't think I didn't clock how hesitant you were last night. You're only panicking now 'cause I'm Black."

Clara's mouth fell open in shock. "That's not true!"

"Bullshit," Jayden said, his tone suddenly sharp and cutting. A nearby group glanced in their direction. "If it was some white guy, would you be standing here, acting like this? Nah, don't think so. But me? Now it's all a problem."

Clara shook her head, her voice rising as she struggled to control her emotions. "Look, Jayden... I told you, it's not about that! It's about not being careful -- "

"Stop lying to yourself," he snapped, his voice now cold and Clara recoiled slightly at his tone. "You didn't wanna be with me in the first place 'cause I'm not what you're used to. And now you're making me feel like I've done something wrong. 'Cause I'm Black."

His words hit her like a punch from a heavyweight fighter to the gut. She didn't feel that way about him -- or did she? "That... that's not fair," she whispered, her eyes stinging as she fought to hold back the tears. "I... I didn't mean for it to come across that way."

Jayden let out a bitter laugh, stepping back away from her. "Whatever, Clara. You do what you gotta do. I'm out." He turned and walked away, leaving the young woman standing there, stunned and speechless.

*****

The girls chatted animatedly as they wandered through the streets, having decided to make their way down to the beach for a few hours while the lads watched football in the bar. Despite the warm sun and the happy, carefree atmosphere that permeated the air around her, Clara felt anything but happy and carefree.

As the girls made their way to the beach, Clara lagged behind, her thoughts swirling with unanswered questions. Jayden's words echoed in her mind. Am I racist? she wondered, the question cutting deeper than she expected. She'd never thought of herself as racist, never wondered if she would treat a Black man differently to a White man but then again, she'd never been in this situation before. Never considered the possibility that she would be pregnant. She thought about her family back home -- how they might react if she came back pregnant with a Black man's baby. The image of their disapproval made her stomach churn.

When the group reached a chemist on the sidewalk, Clara hesitated outside, staring at the glass door. Making up her mind, she called out the others, telling them she'd catch up with them on the beach. As her friends continued on their way, Clara's heart pounded in her chest, guilt and shame swirling with fear and anxiety. Was she really feeling this way because of Jayden's race? Or was she just overwhelmed by the enormity of her mistake?

She took a shaky breath and stepped inside, determined to find an answer -- not just to her immediate problem but perhaps to answer some of the uncomfortable truths she was beginning to uncover about herself.

The pharmacy's fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, harsh against Clara's sleep-deprived eyes as she pulled off her sunglasses. She made her way down the aisles, pretending to give the impression she was browsing. Her path took her past the pregnancy tests, and she hovered there for a moment, her stomach twisting as her eyes lingered on the packages, the thought too terrible to contemplate.

She'd never had to take one before, but the morning-after pill wasn't on the shelves, even she knew that. She was just stalling, aware that she needed to talk to the pharmacist. C'mon, just ask. Get it over with, she told herself, mustering up the courage. Just grab it and go. No one has to know, she thought to herself, swallowing nervous as she approached the counter.

The pharmacist, a stern, older Spanish woman with silver-streaked hair, glanced up from her computer. "¿Necesita ayuda?"

Clara cleared her throat. "Uh... do you... speak English?"

"Yes." The woman's tone was clipped, brusque. It was clear she dealt with tourists on a daily basis but wasn't too fond of it. "What do you need?" she asked in heavily accented English.

"The morning-after pill." Clara's voice cracked as she struggled to say the words, the guilt and embarrassment fighting for dominance over her. Fuck... that sounded terrible... why can't I just be confident. Just stroll in and ask for the pill? Because that's not who you are, a little voice inside her head whispered.

The pharmacist studied her, eyes narrowing. "Emergency contraception?" she asked, a little too loudly for Clara's liking.

"Y... yes."

"Have you used it before?"

Before? Oh, God... does she think I'm some sort of slut? Clara shook her head, her eyes darting to the floor. My God, this is so mortifying, she thought to herself.

"Are you currently on any other form of birth control?"

"N... no."

"When was the unprotected intercourse?"

"Last night."

"Consensual?"

"Yes," Clara blurted out a little too quickly and a little too loud, a bloom of self-conscious heat flushing her face pink. Oh, God... please just give it to me, she thought to herself, wishing for the floor to open up beneath her, realising a man in a nearby aisle browsing some vitamins had glanced at her.

The woman paused as if assessing the young English woman's assertion. "Was this person a stranger? A partner? Did they pressure you?"

Clara's nails dug into her palms as she glanced around the store. Bloody hell! Why is she asking me that? "No. I mean -- he wasn't a stranger. Not really. We'd met earlier. It was my choice." The last words slipped out, as if she was proving she had made her own decisions.

The pharmacist leaned forward. "Are you a tourist? Sometimes here, men target foreign girls. Offer drinks, drugs -- "

"No! Nothing like that." Clara's cheeks burned with shame. "I wanted it. I just... didn't think."

A tense silence fell. The pharmacist's gaze dropped to Clara's collarbone, where a faint bruise peeked above the neckline of her dress. A memento from Jayden on the beach. She felt so aroused, so excited as he'd sucked on her skin. "Was he violent?" the pharmacist asked, almost suspicious of Clara's story and motives.

"No! He was..." Clara swallowed. Gentle. Skilled. Black. Oh, Christ, how do I explain that? "Umm... Good. Nice. I... ummm... just panicked afterward."

The pharmacist's voice softened. "Was this man someone you're afraid of? Someone who... used your differences to manipulate you?"

Clara blinked. "Differences?"

"You're English. Young. He's..." The pharmacist hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. "Local? A migrant worker?"

Realisation struck Clara like a punch to the face. She thinks he exploited me. Clara shook her head vehemently. "No! No! He's English too. Black. But we're both here on holiday. It wasn't -- he didn't force me."

The words tumbled out: "I wanted him. I just... I've never been with a Black man before. It felt... different. Wrong, maybe. But he didn't do anything bad. I'm the one who..." She trailed off, mortified. I'm the one who should have known better, she thought. She was always the responsible one amongst her wilder, more party-focused friends. Yet she was the one who had let a stranger, a Black man, fuck her on the beach. The most incredible sex of my life...

The pharmacist's expression shifted -- turning to pity, not judgment. "Ah. I see." She said, evidently satisfied with Clara's story as she typed briskly into the computer in front of her. "I ask these questions because many girls come here ashamed, hiding coercion. Trafficking is a problem in tourist areas."

Clara stared at the counter. Trafficking. God, it was nothing like that. The word felt absurd compared to her guilt -- she'd been the one staring at Jayden's dark skin ever since they'd met, she'd been the one to let him finish inside her. Twice.

The pharmacist stood up from behind the computer. "I'll get your pill. One moment, señorita."

While she waited, Clara's mind replayed Jayden's voice from the night before: "Gonna fill ya again! Gonna mark this pale cunt proper..." His hands on her hips as he fucked her for the second time from behind, her pale thighs splayed on the sand as he thrust into her tight pussy. Black on white. Salt and pepper. The memories of the previous night came unbidden to her mind, a series of fragmented and disjointed images: his black fingers on her white skin, his dark cock sinking deeper into her pussy, her pale thighs wrapped tightly around his dark brown hips.

The pharmacist returned a moment later with a small box. "EllaOne. Take it with water. You might experience some side effects -- nausea, headaches, irregular bleeding. If you vomit within three hours of taking it, you'll need another dose."

"Okay. Thank you." Clara fumbled with her purse. "How much?"

"Thirty euros."

As she paid, the pharmacist added quietly, "Desire is not a crime, señorita. Shame is heavier than any pill."

Clara fled the store, the box clutched like contraband, the pharmacist's words ringing in her ears. Outside, she leaned against the sunbaked wall, trembling and shivering despite the tropical heat. Crowds of holidaymakers continue to walk past her, unaware of the turmoil going through her mind. Desire is not a crime. But the truth of what had happened, of what she had done, curdled deep in the pit of her stomach.

She realised that, despite her fears and concerns the night before, she'd wanted Jayden's difference. His Blackness. And that realisation felt like the worst sin of all for the young English woman.

*****

That night, the villa buzzed with laughter and energy as Clara's friends flitted between rooms, each of them in high spirits as they got ready for another night out in Las Palmas. Zara was standing in front of the mirror applying her lipstick, Ellie rifled through Clara's suitcase for the perfect top, while Clara sat quietly on the edge of her bed, her thoughts elsewhere.

"Why are we going out with them again?" Clara muttered, twisting the hem of her dress in her hands. "I thought we came here to meet new people, not lads from back home."

Ellie smirked and tossed a top onto the bed. One of Clara's favourite ones but the brown-haired girl didn't move to stop her friend. "Don't be so boring, Clara. They're a laugh. And fit. You saw the way Zara was practically wrapped around Jordan last night."

"Oi, shut up! I wasn't!" Zara retorted, though her cheeks flushed as she glanced at the in the mirror. "He's just... confident, innit."

Clara offered a weak smile, but her stomach churned at the thought of meeting up with the lads again, especially Jayden. The day had been rough. The pill had caused her to feel queasy for several hours and she'd been forced to drink water while her friends enjoyed increasingly outrageous alcoholic beverages. Fortunately, and to her surprise and relief, she didn't seem to have any serious side-effects, unlike her previous experiences with the contraceptive pill.

However, it wasn't just the pill that was the concern for her. The dizzying cocktail of shame, fear, guilt and regret still lingered in the back of her mind, though taking the morning-after pill had dulled some of the panic that had gripped her all morning. Yet Jayden's words from earlier in the day echoed again and again in her mind: You're only panicking now 'cause I'm Black.

Am I racist? she wondered, the question gnawing at her as it had time and time over the course of the day. She didn't think so, but her hesitation last night and her thoughts about her family's potential judgement suggested otherwise. I can't think like that, I can't let him think I'm racist.

"Oi, Clara, you coming or not?" Zara asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at Ellie who had already pulled on Clara's top that she'd taken from her bag. Out in the hallway, the other girls were already yelling and talking over each other as they made their way towards the stairs.