Divorced (LGBTQ Story)

Divorced ch.22

What the hell am I doing?.....

Why am I doing the devils bidding? At the time, Mike and I was in the fancy hotel room Uncle Charlie brought for us while I looked at the mirror to study the outfit Uncle Charlie also brought me so I can look presentable- as he would put it.

The outfit was a dress that barely covered my breast and thighs. It was cute, but too revealing for me; especially when I'm going to a conference full of men and apparently a woman who's interested in other woman. I don't want to be too much of a distraction.

"You look great," Mike peeped while keeping a tight smile on his adorable face. I knew he was trying to make me feel good about the dress.

I couldn't help but smile at him through the mirror, "Thanks Mike, but you can tell the truth- I won't get mad at you."

"Well, the dress is really hoe-ish."

My mouth flew open in surprise, "Mike! That's a bad word, you don't say that."

Mike eyes immediately went wide once he covered his mouth. "Sorry," the word came out as a mumble, but I could hear it loud and clear since he was sitting directly behind me.

A sigh past my lips while I shake my head, "Where did you learn that from?" I know it's not from me, since I watch my words when I'm around him. Also, my full semester of writing in college would not allow me to use a word that's not even a word.

He slowly removed his tiny hands from his mouth before saying, "At school. The big kids say it all the time."

Figures, kids nowadays says the first bad word that comes to mind, without even using it right. I think care if young ones curse, as long as it's not towards me or anyone I care about.  "Don't say any bad words they use."

Mike quickly nod his head before hopping off the stool he was sitting on to only wrap his tiny arms around my thick waist. As a form of an apology, of course I was a sucker and gave in with a small smile. "I'll let this one pass."

Mike smiled with glee as he lets go of me. Mike is the type of kid that hates to be in trouble, which tells me he won't be a troublemaker when he grows up. However, I'm kinda worried if he'll grow up to be a goody two shoes- I never liked them. But any way, maybe I'll teach him to not be too bad nor too good. Just in the middle.

A knock on the hotel door made me advert my eyes from the mirror. I smothered down my dress just a tad bit, grabbed my jacket so my breast and arms cold be covered from watchful eyes and the Delaware's cold weather.

Once I opened the door, I immediately regretted it when I saw my uncle and the overly happy woman beside him who smile was too wide for a freezing day like this. The woman was chirpy and too hyper for her age- which seems to be around early thirty or late twenties. A year or two younger than I.

I could not help but speak on the matter, when you think of a babysitter, you would picture a teenager or a old woman; mostly. Take it for my uncle to hire a babysitter he just fücked not too long ago. From her bed hair, wrinkled blouse, glowing skin, and wide smile. Also, his loose tie, slightly wrinkled shirt as if he tucked it for the second time, and evidence of sweat that's been wiped off his forehead; it seem like they just did it a minute ago- probably on the elevator.

I did not speak about the matter, instead I let them in by moving aside without sharing any words. As they stepped in, the woman decided to introduce herself; which was a mistake because of her unprofessional way of speaking. The woman sings her words and smacks her lips after every sentence.

Where the hell did Charlie get her from? eBay?...

I already knew I was looking at her crazy, mainly from the way she suddenly stopped her sentence and tilted her head to the side in a questionable way. "Um," I started to say while thinking of what I should say that won't sound rude. "Where did you get your training, Miss..."