i went to dinner tonight. alone. i like dining alone, it makes people think i'm mysterious... i look mysterious and dark. it's my glowing pale skin (luminescence divine) it's my raven hair, my lined green eyes, my dark lashes, the piercings, the tattoos, the way i dress, the way i move. it's a dig vibe i put out, i know and i don't mean that in a egotistical sense, i'm a very humble person - but i know that i vibrate with... goodies.
(i didn't look at her) this little blonde girl, felt it. i could sense her excitement. she was like a fangirl of my very own, but i didn't do anything to warrant such fan-ish behavior other than be my "mysterious" self. with my tatted up arms, dramatic makeup, light/darkness.. and the well placed metal in my face. she... hit on me. swooned at me.... threw her little petite blonde self at me. this manifested terribly in a very awkward approach, a timid wave and this amazingly cute smile when i graced her with my gaze.
"i just love your tattoo - it's so pretty." her teeth are so white.
"thanks." a quick smile from me, damn my dimples and curly hair. and i'm back to writing some notes furiously into my phone. she kind of... backs away, wanting to say more (i've got amazing peripheral vision) but simply bows her head and takes the nearest possible space in line of site - choosing a place at the bar - to drive home that she wasn't waiting for anyone but me. (i happened to be at a table, i could be waiting) i'm not. my dinner comes shortly after and she is pretending to read her book and watching me. i've put my phone away and have opened up "Out of Africa" by Dinesen - not because i want to look literary, i could give a fuck less, it's a great story. i prefer to read while i eat if i'm eating alone. actually most of my time is spent in some way either reading or writing - i like the chance it gives me to reside inside my own space. readers get it - people who don't enjoy reading - don't get it. i'm absorbed in the plains of Africa, and my rice and bean dish - but i'm perfectly aware of miss blonde twitchy panties at the bar... eye fucking me. it's sweet. and i have to admit. i like it. i cease to be straight. i'm just human with no gender identity. i didn't feel like a woman or a man - just raw and sexual. she is nice and sweet and i want to pinch her, slap her and make her scream with pleasure. i want to taste her and kiss her hard. ruin her makeup, pull her hair, make her cry and then tell her how pretty she is. i shut my book, tuck it back into my bag. the farm in the Ngong Hills will wait, i'm finished with my supper and i have somewhere to be. i bus my table, grab my bag and head for the door. i hear this shuffling from the bar and then this frantic click click clicking behind me, i actually roll my eyes, i open the door to walk out. she clears her throat in the most precious way.
"umm.. you forgot your sweater." those super white teeth again, she's some cute little college kid. she has no idea what she'd be getting herself into. she still has it, clutched to her bosom. i reach out, twist my finger around the knit and pull it slowly through her loosening arms.
"thanks." and there they are, those dimples, my teeth framed with magenta stain, the ring in my lip catches the light and is such a nice contrast to the softness of my lips. her eyes are telling me all this, she's like an open book. i wink and disappear into the night. i feel her, watching me go.
i got my nipples pierced after dinner. it hurt, so deliciously, i flooded my panties and moaned. my piercer, whom i've known since i was 18 - he's done all of my piercings and i have a few (now i have two more) he laughed and said "oh my, i thought i was going to have to call my girlfriend and tell her i cheated on her. you little pain junkie." he was proud of me for almost climaxing on his table. i'm a bit in.... space right now, lifted in ecstasy. it's best if i don't move - because when i do, i gasp and come, just a little. and i'm still thinking about my little match girl at the cafe.
grocery shopping after was interesting. i didn't realize how much my tits jiggle when i walk, (i must be fun to watch.) but the little tiny bit of friction was driving me insane; i kept licking my lips, like a whore, crossing my legs and sighing in the store. it was fucking amazing. people looked at me. it's always fun - how nice some men get when they want to fuck you. it's even more fun when they get nasty when they really want to fuck you. they want to rape you. they want to know they can do anything. they want to hurt you.
like my nipples which are now being held at a very erect position for the duration of my having 14 gauge steel bars running through them. they are - now being raped - permanently.
that thought brought new pain to my right nipple - it's throbbing and a fucking delight. this pain is so different for me, because it's such a........ good pain. it's a sexy pain. some chicks get off on having whip cream licked off of them - i prefer having needles shoved through some of my sensitive bits. i'm sick with it, this level of "turned on" this heightened sense of ache, agony, ecstasy - it's torture all it's own. it's like the pre-orgasm tension built up to a tight frenzy, that bit of dark matter just waiting to explode/implode and envelope the fucking universe - my universe. and just when i think it can't get any better.. any tighter.. any sweeter.. it just builds up another level.
i wonder what the little blonde girl would like. i bet i don't care. i'd give her what i wanted to give her and i'd make her love it. it's not that difficult - when that's all they want.
i bet she'll be back next week - with her book, at the bar.
~
say i saw her again - my little match girl, it's funny what i've turned her into already.
i gave her my phone number, she started texting me almost immediately. (i thought i lacked a basic ability to control myself - how wrong was i?) she's already talking about the first time we met - like we've been together any sort of time to be reminiscing. whatever, i'm letting her be who she has to be with me. letting her lose herself in whatever degree she wants to, i'm her confessor now, she just.. tells me things. how she grew up, what she's doing now - she's studying at the local university (big surprise, living in a college town will get you college kids) - she's so... much. she's adorable, i won't deny that i like the way she smiles and the way she moves and i like that she brings out this predator in me, that i knew existed before, but hadn't really let out of the box.
last night she called me - out of the blue, it was 1 o'clock in the morning. it wasn't a bad thing, i wasn't sleeping - it was just random.
"what's up?"
"hey..." sigh
(i maintain radio silence, she called me.)
"so, i just miss the sound of your voice. tell me a story."
"i'm writing stories right now."
"what are you writing? read it to me?"
"i don't do that."
"not even for me?"
"i just don't do that."
"are you writing about me?"
"not this time."
"would you let me read it if you did?"
"yes."
"that night at the café, were you making notes on your phone?" she lets out this almost rapturous breath.
"you know, if i told you all my secrets, you wouldn't want me so much, there would be no mystery left to untangle - why are you trying to ruin this for yourself Alice?" my breathing is so quiet, i know that if i don't speak that she'll wonder if i hung up. i can see her looking down at her iPhone and then putting it back up to her ear.
"that's not true." she almost whined.
"i know, i'm being mean. you'll never figure me out because i keep changing. so... just go with it. i like you sad and pathetic and into me. i like the mystery that you've built in your head about me. i'm going to let you think whatever you want to think about me, because i'm sure your imagination can make me far more interesting than i actually am."
"i don't understand."
"i know. listen. come over now."
"really?"
"yeah, really. you miss the way i sound and i miss the way you taste - get your little blonde cunt over here and sit on my face."
i disconnect the call.
she's unsure of herself, but she's fearless. she reminds me of me, when i was her age and i'm overcome with this sudden worry that i'm going to ruin her.
she's over in due time - we live on opposite ends of the city, but this late at night, a trip through town isn't a huge deal. i'm sitting on the couch, watching Despicable Me when i hear her knuckles softly tapping at my chamber door. i turn off the television, no need for her to know my nerdiness. i peep out at her, i love looking at people through the peep hole, sometimes i'm quiet on my approach, so they don't know they're being looked at. and others, i don't guard my footfalls - they know i'm looking but they don't know why i'm not opening up. i do the latter. i watch for for thirty seconds and her face does this thing. this cute little flutter of disappointment and a little bit of anguish - over being so openly rejected - just washes over her face. i wait a few more seconds, she raises her hand, to knock again - (considering) i slide the bolt back and open the door. her face lights up, she's like a pathetic puppy.
"come here, you." i reach out and grab her by the scarf, pulling her in. i wrap my arms around her - she's so tiny. i realize with a pang that this is something i'll probably never feel. i'm not a giant woman, but at 5'10" i don't spend a good deal of time around people that make me feel small. she's the kind of woman i could wad up into a ball, if i wanted. it's that little surge of power, of overtaking - that thread of thought that my mind snatches on to, like a dog catching a frisbee in mid air and fucking runs with it. i pull her scarf from her neck, push her fluffy down vest off of her shoulders and onto the floor, i grab her silky looking night shirt by the neck and i pull, hard, jerking it down until it gives, tearing. the sound is somewhat satisfying and drives me into a bit of a frenzy, i push her up against the wall in the entryway - the front door is still open, she's half naked and moaning in ecstasy. my fingers work the drawstring on her pants loose, i bite her lips a little too hard and push her back by the shoulders, slapping her across the face, i yank down her pants, she's not wearing any panties, i'm on my knees, pulling one of her legs over my shoulder, lapping at her cunt like a wild thing. slurping and biting... devouring her. she's got her hands in my hair, she tastes like honey. i open my mouth wide and suck all of her into my mouth, knowing what it feels like, my own starts to pulse with pleasure.
then i stop.
i stand up.
i close the door.
i look at her.
she's a hot mess. barely holding herself up, her eyes are half closed, she's rubbing her firm little tits. every thing about her is small and firm. i step into her once more, not quite touching her, she looks up at me, wanting to close the distance, i put my hand out and run my fingernail up her stomach - leaving a little white trail that turns red from the pressure i apply. i stop at the center of her chest... then trace around one perky little tit, then the other, her nipples strain, so full of blood and feeling and aching to be touched. i turn palm inward now, soft and trace the slopes of her breast up to her neck, my hand easily circling her throat.
i squeeze.
isn't it funny? when we meet people, how they remind us of others? or bring out desires we may have for someone we know and secretly want - to be confronted with them, with their reactions - in the form of another human being - separate, but the same - it goes along with Déjà vu and doppelgängers. we apply certain actions/reactions to them, simply because they are familiar to us in some distinct (or subtle) way.
i'm choking sweet little blonde Alice now - not only because she is a dainty thing that makes me feel powerful, but because she is familiar to me. and i hate that familiarity. it makes me feel like she's sank into me somehow - started to create her own little hollow and i don't want her to. i don't want to like her, i just want to hurt her. her reaction shows that my emotions are well hidden, she turns the appropriate shade of red, lightly knocks her fist against my arm - to tap out. her mouth open, her face tilted up to me, i cover her mouth with my own and breathe into her and kiss her. she responds with youthful hunger, licking her scent from my lips. i straighten up and look down at her.
"get down on your knees." she obliges immediately - do i have a dog? "follow me, leave your clothes." i walk into the living room and sit on he couch - waiting to see what she will do. i'm seated very casually, it's my way of being, my posture tends to give away how i'm feeling, if i feel uptight and uncomfortable, i usually sit on edge, ready to stand - to fight or flight. if i feel comfortable, i tend to sit legs akimbo. i sit this way now.
she waited by the door until i had a seat, then she slowly and somewhat seductively crawled toward me, i watched from the corner of my eye, i don't feel like indulging confidence. she comes round to my right knee and stops, angled toward me, her head bowed, her shaggy blonde locks falling in front of her face. i'm staring at her openly now, her chest rising and falling deeply, she's trying to slow her heart down. her hands are in her lap - postured otherwise perfectly on her knees. a very pretty submissive pose. i roll my eyes and sigh.
"what's on your mind Alice?" she glances at her clothes near the door. then back down to her lap. "look at me." she looks up at me, her cheeks flushing. i do believe she's used to being ravaged when she's naked - not made to talk.
"may i put some clothes on?"
"no."
"if we're not going to..." she trails off to a whisper.
"if we're not going to what?"
"go to your room?" she suggests.
"if i wanted to be in my room, guess where i'd be right now Alice?"
"in your room."
"that's right. what's on your mind Alice?"
"i want to be yours."
"i know."
"can i be yours?"
"i don't think you know what you're asking Alice."
"i want to be yours."
"look at you; can i put clothes on... can i be yours..." i stop myself short of an actual insult. "do you know what i do Alice? do you know who i am? who do you think i am?"
"i'm sorry, i just - i thought if we were going to just talk, i could."
"you're sorry, you thought you could?"
"you're not being fair."
"you're not here to be treated fairly. why are you here Alice?"
"because i miss you.."
"why are you here, you stupid little cunt?"
she's lets out this beautifully rapturous sigh, closing her eyes. i imagine her cunt dripping onto her legs.
"you're a fucking whore Alice - that's why you're here."
"yes...." the word melting off of her tongue.
"what do you expect from this Alice? be honest."
"should i call you something? ma'am? or..."
i simply stare at her, waiting for an answer.
"i don't know. i want to find out."
[right answer]
[i want to skip all the pleasantries with you and get you trussed up like a Christmas goose and in an uncomfortable position on my bed - elevated for my comfort, of course. this is exactly how it is. bound - tied - trapped, not gagged. i like to hear you whimper and moan and beg while i whip your sopping wet cunt with a wide brown leather belt. i haven't broken a sweat, but each grunt, each whimper, each soft moan - ending in a cry of over-stimulation from you, drives me to a new level of desire. i can't tell if you're crying out in ecstasy or agony and i simply cease to care. i am this - i am effort.
i have you open to me, your body, your mind, my will is in you - but i don't have a will. i'm just breathing, wanting, shaking, hurting and soaking your screams up. drinking them in with my ears. i land one more blow, squarely on your throbbing cunt, your juices splattering on to your thighs. i take the belt, fold it in half and shove it into your mouth.]
"remember how this tastes." i bark at her, hoarse - as if i had been the one screaming. "you will love this flavor, if you don't already."
the tears freely run from her eyes, falling into her ears - the one reason i hate crying while laying down, my ears always get wet. i look at her face, studying its stress and agony - it's fluid, changing - she doesn't know how beautiful she is right this second in her not knowing what to feel or how to feel it. her confusion is palatable.
"it's terrible, isn't it Alice." i brush the hair from her sweaty brow, gently and take the belt from her teeth. "to know someone, who gives you such pleasure and fear and such comfort." i trace my fingers down her face, between her breasts, i softly kiss her lips.
"it's chaos." she whispers.
"it gets better." i whisper back.
the doorbell sounds.
she's looking at me, studying me, eye-fucking me again. she's a little fucking rape-slut. she reminds me of me.
the doorbell sounds again.
"persistent. stay here." i wink at her and i wander out of the bedroom. i don't bother checking the peep hole, i know who it is, i open the door.
"Andy."
"ma'am." he smiles.
"don't give me that shit." i open my arms and he wraps himself around me. "come in." i invite him in and lead him to the bedroom.
"what's this about?" he asks.
"let's just get the "easy one" out of the way, shall we?" i start undressing Andy, he doesn't protest. i know she is watching from her place on the bed, not saying a word - being the good little whore she is, i know she won't.
he's already out of his shirt, i'm working on his belt - i love the sound a buckle makes and the subsequent sound of a belt coming through belt loops. he takes the belt from me and puts it around my neck, pulling me to him, then he tilts my face to his, looking into my eyes.
"are you all right?"
"of course i'm all right, why wouldn't i be all right?" i stand on my tip toes to kiss his lips, he regards me for a moment, then leans in and kisses me so deeply, that my head spins. he pulls the belt tight around my neck and i gasp for air.
"i've always loved your feedback..." he growls in my ear, as he kisses my neck and bare shoulder. he grabs my breasts and i openly cry out, my nipples still sore because of the piercings. "new?" he chuckles lightly.
i flick open the button of his jeans with my thumb and slide my hand down, not surprised to feel that he's ready - i unzip his jeans and sink to my knees taking them with me, his generously sized cock jutting like a weapon. this no longer feels fluid and easy for me, it feels trying - awkward, but before i can protest, he's pulling me forward by the belt that's still looped around my neck, saying "say "aaah" for daddy." i glare up at him, but open my mouth and he's in, deep, painful, throat fucking me for all i'm worth or all i'm not worth. he's hard and invasive - none of the soft-firm of the female form, it's the contrast between men and women that opens up so many things for so many people. in this one instance, it both opens and closes me. i go from ceasing to care about Alice to not caring about myself. i am this - i am a vessel.
there are many things about sexual stimulation that are unknown - it doesn't all amount to friction and fucking - a lot of it is a trick to the mind. Andy came fast and hard down my throat, not because he fucked himself to climax, but because of the thought: i have my cock in her throat... in her throat! - it's triumphant, it's powerful. i know the moment he goes - he pulls taught on the belt and quivers, his muscles all straining with full power for a fraction, then release. men are fascinating creatures.
"holy fuck, i need a drink - want anything?" Andy wanders out of the room, his cock cradled in his hand.
"ice water." i shout after him and then mumble. "you motherfucker..."
i'm sitting naked on the floor of my room, my legs crossed under me, i slide to the edge of the bed and peer up at Alice... my eyes level with the edge, she has her face turned toward me, a single tear slides down her cheek, she says nothing.
"are you scared?" i ask her, knowing that she is.
"why are you doing this?" she whispers.
"because i want to." i whisper back. "look at you... i'd love to keep you like this forever, put you in my closet when i'm not using you..." i see her shiver, i know she's flooding herself.
Andy presses the glass of ice water to my neck, i reach up and take it without looking at him, he tenderly rests his hand on my shoulder, i drain the glass and hand it to him, he takes it and then folds himself onto the floor beside me, wrapping his arms around me, nuzzling my neck - generally making a pest out of himself. some men, after the come - they want to sleep, some men - they want to cuddle, Andy - he always wants to go for two and make me go for a million in the process. Alice watches him cuddle me, caress me, nibble my ears, suck my neck - all the things i never let her do. i'd never allowed her to give me affection, i'd never allowed her to please me. and this was a whole new torture, watching him get to do all the things she wasn't yet allowed to do. she's torn, it's obvious on her open book face - just as obvious as she was in the café the first day we met; eye-fucking me from her seat at the bar and her chasing me down to give me back my "sweater" which wasn't a sweater at all - it was a thermal, a long john top - a total butch shirt. she squirted in her panties for the chance to do something for me. what she didn't know, was that i had left it on purpose. (i don't believe in coincidences, perhaps one day - she will stop believing in them as well) she's torn between envy and pleasure. i turn my face away from her and kiss Andy deeply, sucking his tongue into my mouth, biting his lips, the way i kiss her, i kiss him - so she knows she's not special. i break away from Andy and slap him hard across the face - he grins, a little bit of blood on his lip.
"you fucking bitch."
"fuck you Andy." i hiss. i stand up, his face now level with my midsection. "shall we?" i don't wait for an answer, i walk over to my toy chest and select a nice suede flogger, red and black, the red straps slightly thinner than the black and set on the inside - if wielded correctly - it delivers a delicious amount of sting and thud both.
"ah... you're in one of those moods." he smiles. and turns his back to me leaning his hands against the dresser, legs apart.
"i love that you're a sadomasochist." i whisper, too softly for him to hear. i begin to flog him, light strokes at first, finding my rhythm - single Florentine - keeping my shoulders loose, my body open - it's fun to watch, it's fun to do, it's fun to have done. after 20 minutes - i'm breathing heavily, not from exertion, but because i get off on doing it. i start sounding like a Russian tennis player, little gasps and grunts of pleasure. Andy's ass, thighs and back are bright red and hot. i drop the flogger and dive to the floor, licking his hot flesh, biting, kissing. he turns, his cock dripping with precum - he bends and grabs me by the wrists, hauling me off of the floor. i hear Alice moan, watching me get manhandled after the contrast of seeing me flog him. he's all over me, all around me - making me feel small and unsafe. he's squeezing my flesh, bending and sucking my sore, itching nipples - pulling the barbells lightly between his teeth. his hand is between my legs, rubbing me - he looks odd - looking at the outside of things, a large man, bending to get at me, eager. his hardness in contrast of me. i'm soft, with curves. he's a man made of angles. his nose, his body, his cock. every bit of him hard, jutting, imposing, even his hands - which openly covet my flesh, pinching, exploring, rubbing and squeezing the juices out of me like a fist squeezing a peach - his whole hand covers it and he grabs. it always feels like revenge. he's behind me, rubbing me, trying to mold me, break me down - shape me into something i'm not - something i'm never going to be. he pushes me forward onto my stomach, onto the bed next to Alice, sweet Alice - she's still staring at me, silent - her quiet, beautiful tears. i close my eyes for a moment, when i feel his tongue licking me - exploring. his tongue moist and firm, probing my ass, opening me up and licking me out, he shoves my legs open and works his mouth all the way down to my clit next to the mattress. he's urging me up at the hips, his hands under me lifting - patiently, but not. i oblidge, leaving my face against the mattress, my ass up in the air, presenting like a good bitch - he licks me for my efforts and i moan, my mouth hanging open. "lean back, just a little bit darling." he says so sweetly, i pull my legs further under me - i know exactly where he wants me. i feel his stubble brush against my vulva and i squirt involuntarily, i hear him chuckle, then he's silent - except for his kissing, slurping and sucking. i feel his fingers start to explore the parts his mouth isn't. his thumb finds it's way into my anus and he makes it pulse in time with my clit - soon i'm riding his face like i'd ride his cock, moaning in complete bliss. i close the distance between Alice - my lips meet hers and a tidal wave crashes over me - i'm gone.
"i wish i had more to give to you." it wasn't a lie, i gave all that i could. he always walked away - no matter how many times i relived it in my sleep, it never differed from what had happened in life. there was no other way for it to end. someone always leaves.
i'm not gone. things like that don't end us. even if we feel they should, both for good and bad reasons. who wouldn't want to die right after climaxing? what a way to go out! who doesn't want to die when their heart is shattered into a million tiny pieces? what's the point.
i feel that with everything, there is a turning point. shit gets real or goes away. there's always an explosion beforehand. sometimes they're rather anticlimactic. sometimes they blow your mind.
i'm narrating in metaphors and wispy things that make no sense - i'm starting to question reality, just a little bendy bit here and it all started with this story.
it gives me goosebumps.
i've put off ending it because i literally don't know how it ends. i figured out recently why it began though. it was a mixture of things, very complex and very simple. i met a woman at a café, she complimented my tattoo, very shyly and sweetly. she sat at the bar - i sat at a table. i was in her line of site. she kept staring at me. not "gawking" but you know how people stare when they want to catch your eye? yes. it was like that. but she didn't catch my eye. i knew she was staring and pathetic and adorable. and it made me feel like wrecking her. i left my thermal at my table when i got up, it had been tied around my waist - when she visited the toilets, i simply untied it, so that when i stood up to leave, it was left in the seat. poor her for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. i was going through some personal bullshit and when i do that - i tend to get very sadistic and extremely predatory which is the complete and fucking utter opposite of what i had been.
the true and terrible part of it is this. when i'm in this state of mind, this way of being. i am a force and that force is attractive. i'm not fluffing myself. it's called confidence and when you're a predator, you fucking ooze it out of your pores.
the little things of the world pick right up on it.
i feel like i've unlocked new parts of my brain and now that i have them open... the thought of locking them again.. well, it's just not an option.
my wrath is unleashed upon the world.
her world. it's the only world that matters to her.
and now, i'm fucking with it.
it works because it's unknown and exciting.
is there a more exquisite feeling than that after climax? does anyone ever get a sense of foreboding after they come? no. that's why it's so perfect, your mind is flooded with these really cool chemicals and everything is all right, at least for now. this is where i am - floating - sitting on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, my mind somewhere in the atmosphere, my skin is no longer on fire, simply aglow, the little leavings of heat. i don't want to open my eyes - this wellbeing never lasts. shame too, i work so hard to get here.
i feel them watching me.
"Andy, this is Alice, she's the dumb slut who wants to be mine."
"really..."
"she's said it twice."
"interesting... what do you have planned for her?"
i open my eyes, he's regarding her rather thoughtfully - i'm suddenly very glad that he's here. "well, quite a few things actually, but i want to start by shocking her cunt and end with you fucking her. i think i want a baby." i look at Alice; a faceless cunt, lying there, trussed up, - her sopping wet cunt, pink and winking for the world to see. her knees nearly drawn to her elbows, spread open - i plan to spread her further with some really neat clamps. i turn my attention back to Andy. "would you mind getting the TENS unit out of the closet? top shelf, to the left..." i admire his reddened backside when he stretches up to retrieve said "tool box" and decide to regale my captive audience with a story.
"i remember when Andy and i first met... remember that Andy?" i continue, not waiting for a response, but notice he halts with his back turned to me, his shoulders going slightly toward his ears. "he begged me.... called me every day for a week before i relented... mistress... peg me... own me... dominate me... i'll do anything... we had fun, didn't we Andy..." he turns then, i smile fondly, he regards me with a look of rage and embarrassment. my cheeks flush with a little wave of jealousy that he's worried what Alice thinks of him - even though i want him to fuck her - humans are complex. i clear my throat and continue, my eyes never leaving his. "he didn't talk to me for a month, it was worth it. by the end of our first night together, he was a shaking mess... i turned a 6'3" 200 pound former United States Marine - into a quivering mess.... it was beautiful. i was so jacked up and wet by the end and he never touched me... he just took everything i did and thanked me for it." i feel a lump rise in my throat and put my hand up to my face, self conscious. i hear Alice yelp from her place on the mattress as i'm shoved backward onto the bed, he hooks his arms under my knees and shoves his cock inside, he begins fucking me and growling, his face not his own. i clench my teeth and slowly run my hands up his sides, around to his chest and i savagely twist his nipples.
"Andy... are you raping me?"
his eyes clear a little and his pace slows... slows... then stops, his cock halfway in. he looks me in my eyes, considering.
i wrap my arms up around his shoulders, pulling myself close to him and purr in his ear "rape me Andy... but you won't leave me quivering with fear... i love it." my mind is swirling, i'd started telling our story with mirth and ended with choked admiration which he mistook for something else and shit got real. i feel the tension in his shoulders release slightly as he looks into my eyes and sees they're a few shades brighter green and moist with tears. i feel one roll down my cheek, perfect timing - he licks it up.
"i do think you're wrong... i think you're already quivering on the inside." he starts fucking me again, slowly, the rage out of him.
"no." i say in a very offhand way. "you're wrong. you're everything i imagined you would be and more, because you do things that i never expect and it works because i get bored... very easily." i bounce my hips up and down to emphasize and i smash my open mouth onto his.
[people care less about the truth and more about how it's presented to them.]
my body feels languid... it's came hard already - cumming again is easy after the first one is out of the way (that's how i work... the opposite of most men) like Andy... oh... Andy, he's cum down my throat already, so he's hard and he's got to work for his next one, but he decides to make me work for it instead, he flips us over - i'm on top of him now... in his lap... riding his cock. he runs his nails up my thighs, around my hips, scratching... leaving marks, like the ones i'd left on little alice... he's just as hungry for me, as i am for her. he wants to own me. but he can't. but that doesn't stop the want, it never does. can't - has no meaning in terms of desire. he rakes his nails down my back, ending at the small of it - pinching hard, making me arch forward. my tits, he devours, gnawing at my nipples... my poor pierced, not fully healed nipples. i dig my nails into his shoulders as a warning, then rip his head back by the hair and shove my tongue down his throat, biting along the way. i pull back for air and he's chanting at me... "fuck me, whore... you filthy cunt... you greedy greedy slut." i bounce up and down, on my knees, riding him high, he slips his hand down between my legs and starts keeping time with my clit, rubbing it.. my mouth hangs open, i'm panting in his face, deep breaths, deep full breaths that i hold and release... hold and release... he pulls me forward again and kisses my open mouth, pinching my clit hard. my cunt starts doing this magical dance of spasms, clamping down and releasing, milking his cock... encouraging it to join in the fun... it does... i feel Andy's warm spunk shoot up into me and add to the mess inside.
he holds me close, his forehead resting on mine - always forcing his intimacy on me. his sweat lingering with mine. his fluids... mixing with my own. i think... as i feel his cock shrinking out of me... as he's holding me so close... mixing even our oxygen... no. i know. he's in love with me. truly... madly... deeply... kind of love. every song on the radio seems to fit.. kind of love. i feel a little bit of shame for it and a little claustrophobic.
"Sarah... i..."
"Andy...."
"yeah?"
"do you know how much it pisses me off when i buy plain bagels at the bakery and they taste faintly of fruit..."
"Sarah."
"...because they're either boiled or baked or share a space with the blueberry ones. it's infuriating..."
"Sarah."
"...if i wanted a blueberry bagel, i would buy one. i want my plain bagels to taste like.. well, plain, i don't like eating blueberries with turkey or ham. it's not nice." the word nice ends in a squeak of surprise as he pinches my inner thigh.
"focus."
"fuck you."
"why do you have to get nasty?"
"Andy. don't make me hurt you."
"Sarah. i don't want to talk about bagels.. i.."
"just let it be. quit worrying it all the time."
"you're the one that worries. you always worry about people falling in love with you. why?!" he shouts the last of it in my face, pulling me forward.
"because love gets possessive. love angles things. love changes things. morphs... shapes... hollows me out, to fill me up with something else. i'm not fond of it's misery when it ends. i cry for love, but it never cries for me." his cock has slithered its way out of me, it feels like a wet sponge nestled against me. i feel ridiculous having this conversation exposed, naked, vulnerable - his eyes almost coolly resting on me - he feels the change - thinking he may have the upper hand. i feel his grip on my upper arms, his hands shaking, nervous - wanting to shake sense into me - make me see that he'd do anything for me, anything in the world - except retreat.
"why do you have this... weird need to control me?"
"i don't see it as weird." he smiles.
my whole body shivers...
i feel derailed.
"i'm really uncomfortable having this conversation right now."
"it's an intimate conversation - we've just been intimate, what's a better time than this?"
"eh... i don't know." i look over at Alice, her eyes are dry, she has somewhat of a serene look on her face, i smile at her - she smiles back.
"what's up?" he grins, seeing my averted smile and thinking it shy.
"maybe when i don't have a guest to entertain." i look back at him and he's looking at me, an oddly familiar flicker of disappointment passes his face and is gone again, he forces a smile and swallows before continuing in very gentle tones, taking me further into his arms.
"Babe... it's just you and me." i feel his arms tense up, expecting me to bolt.
"what are you talking about Andy, she's right there! i introduced you to her earlier. this is Alice." i reach for her on the bed and she reaches for me with her eyes, still not saying a word. "you said hello to her Andy."
"i didn't say hello to her Sarah, she doesn't exist."
"she's right here!" i stretch for her again, his arms constrict around me, as if he could hold on tight enough he could keep me whole. my fingers come within an inch of her foot before Andy has me hauled over to the other side of the bed.
"Alice doesn't exist." he's got me pinned - looming over me - trying to lock eyes with me, but i keep looking to my right at her. she mouths it's OK and smiles. i look up at him, finally. meeting his blue eyes as if for the first time, i see concern there, love, affection - i see it all - in the windows of his soul and for a fraction of a moment i believe him. i have clarity of everything, i'm plugged in. [i hear her sigh..]
"you need to go." i smile, trying to reassure him, trying to make him comfortable enough to leave.
"Sarah, i'm not leaving, you're not well."
"don't be silly, i'm fine." his eyes are probing the depths of mine, looking for a confirmation. "there's no one there." i laugh and look over to my right again, at Alice trussed up, propped against the pillows. "just you and me...." i smile and look up at him. "i just want to take a shower and go to bed, it's probably near 4 in the morning, i don't want you to sleep over." i paused and then add quickly. "i have to work in the afternoon, i just want to get a decent 8 beforehand."
he just shakes his head at me. "i'll run you a bath, i'm staying." he lifts off of me and pulls me up into his arms. "you seemed so convinced." he whispers into my hair and kisses my temple.
"i'm alright." i fight the urge to push away, i don't want to freak him out. "just, go run the bath, i'll be there in a minute."
"no, i don't think that's a good idea." i let him lead me out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, he sits me on the toilet and turns to the bathtub, adjusting the temperature, holding his hand under the tap. he's three, maybe four feet away from me. i stand, he turns and looks up at me. "what are you doing babe? do you need something?" he's sitting on the side of the tub, running his hand through the water. i bolt through the open door and down the hallway toward the bedroom, i hear him curse as his foot slips on the bathmat, but he doesn't go down - i reach the bedroom door and push it open...
she's gone.
[so here it is for you - laid bare, cut open. i feel ground up, as fine as glass under foot - like there's nothing left of me but the words that i can't seem to give a voice to.]
(i didn't look at her) this little blonde girl, felt it. i could sense her excitement. she was like a fangirl of my very own, but i didn't do anything to warrant such fan-ish behavior other than be my "mysterious" self. with my tatted up arms, dramatic makeup, light/darkness.. and the well placed metal in my face. she... hit on me. swooned at me.... threw her little petite blonde self at me. this manifested terribly in a very awkward approach, a timid wave and this amazingly cute smile when i graced her with my gaze.
"i just love your tattoo - it's so pretty." her teeth are so white.
"thanks." a quick smile from me, damn my dimples and curly hair. and i'm back to writing some notes furiously into my phone. she kind of... backs away, wanting to say more (i've got amazing peripheral vision) but simply bows her head and takes the nearest possible space in line of site - choosing a place at the bar - to drive home that she wasn't waiting for anyone but me. (i happened to be at a table, i could be waiting) i'm not. my dinner comes shortly after and she is pretending to read her book and watching me. i've put my phone away and have opened up "Out of Africa" by Dinesen - not because i want to look literary, i could give a fuck less, it's a great story. i prefer to read while i eat if i'm eating alone. actually most of my time is spent in some way either reading or writing - i like the chance it gives me to reside inside my own space. readers get it - people who don't enjoy reading - don't get it. i'm absorbed in the plains of Africa, and my rice and bean dish - but i'm perfectly aware of miss blonde twitchy panties at the bar... eye fucking me. it's sweet. and i have to admit. i like it. i cease to be straight. i'm just human with no gender identity. i didn't feel like a woman or a man - just raw and sexual. she is nice and sweet and i want to pinch her, slap her and make her scream with pleasure. i want to taste her and kiss her hard. ruin her makeup, pull her hair, make her cry and then tell her how pretty she is. i shut my book, tuck it back into my bag. the farm in the Ngong Hills will wait, i'm finished with my supper and i have somewhere to be. i bus my table, grab my bag and head for the door. i hear this shuffling from the bar and then this frantic click click clicking behind me, i actually roll my eyes, i open the door to walk out. she clears her throat in the most precious way.
"umm.. you forgot your sweater." those super white teeth again, she's some cute little college kid. she has no idea what she'd be getting herself into. she still has it, clutched to her bosom. i reach out, twist my finger around the knit and pull it slowly through her loosening arms.
"thanks." and there they are, those dimples, my teeth framed with magenta stain, the ring in my lip catches the light and is such a nice contrast to the softness of my lips. her eyes are telling me all this, she's like an open book. i wink and disappear into the night. i feel her, watching me go.
i got my nipples pierced after dinner. it hurt, so deliciously, i flooded my panties and moaned. my piercer, whom i've known since i was 18 - he's done all of my piercings and i have a few (now i have two more) he laughed and said "oh my, i thought i was going to have to call my girlfriend and tell her i cheated on her. you little pain junkie." he was proud of me for almost climaxing on his table. i'm a bit in.... space right now, lifted in ecstasy. it's best if i don't move - because when i do, i gasp and come, just a little. and i'm still thinking about my little match girl at the cafe.
grocery shopping after was interesting. i didn't realize how much my tits jiggle when i walk, (i must be fun to watch.) but the little tiny bit of friction was driving me insane; i kept licking my lips, like a whore, crossing my legs and sighing in the store. it was fucking amazing. people looked at me. it's always fun - how nice some men get when they want to fuck you. it's even more fun when they get nasty when they really want to fuck you. they want to rape you. they want to know they can do anything. they want to hurt you.
like my nipples which are now being held at a very erect position for the duration of my having 14 gauge steel bars running through them. they are - now being raped - permanently.
that thought brought new pain to my right nipple - it's throbbing and a fucking delight. this pain is so different for me, because it's such a........ good pain. it's a sexy pain. some chicks get off on having whip cream licked off of them - i prefer having needles shoved through some of my sensitive bits. i'm sick with it, this level of "turned on" this heightened sense of ache, agony, ecstasy - it's torture all it's own. it's like the pre-orgasm tension built up to a tight frenzy, that bit of dark matter just waiting to explode/implode and envelope the fucking universe - my universe. and just when i think it can't get any better.. any tighter.. any sweeter.. it just builds up another level.
i wonder what the little blonde girl would like. i bet i don't care. i'd give her what i wanted to give her and i'd make her love it. it's not that difficult - when that's all they want.
i bet she'll be back next week - with her book, at the bar.
~
say i saw her again - my little match girl, it's funny what i've turned her into already.
i gave her my phone number, she started texting me almost immediately. (i thought i lacked a basic ability to control myself - how wrong was i?) she's already talking about the first time we met - like we've been together any sort of time to be reminiscing. whatever, i'm letting her be who she has to be with me. letting her lose herself in whatever degree she wants to, i'm her confessor now, she just.. tells me things. how she grew up, what she's doing now - she's studying at the local university (big surprise, living in a college town will get you college kids) - she's so... much. she's adorable, i won't deny that i like the way she smiles and the way she moves and i like that she brings out this predator in me, that i knew existed before, but hadn't really let out of the box.
last night she called me - out of the blue, it was 1 o'clock in the morning. it wasn't a bad thing, i wasn't sleeping - it was just random.
"what's up?"
"hey..." sigh
(i maintain radio silence, she called me.)
"so, i just miss the sound of your voice. tell me a story."
"i'm writing stories right now."
"what are you writing? read it to me?"
"i don't do that."
"not even for me?"
"i just don't do that."
"are you writing about me?"
"not this time."
"would you let me read it if you did?"
"yes."
"that night at the café, were you making notes on your phone?" she lets out this almost rapturous breath.
"you know, if i told you all my secrets, you wouldn't want me so much, there would be no mystery left to untangle - why are you trying to ruin this for yourself Alice?" my breathing is so quiet, i know that if i don't speak that she'll wonder if i hung up. i can see her looking down at her iPhone and then putting it back up to her ear.
"that's not true." she almost whined.
"i know, i'm being mean. you'll never figure me out because i keep changing. so... just go with it. i like you sad and pathetic and into me. i like the mystery that you've built in your head about me. i'm going to let you think whatever you want to think about me, because i'm sure your imagination can make me far more interesting than i actually am."
"i don't understand."
"i know. listen. come over now."
"really?"
"yeah, really. you miss the way i sound and i miss the way you taste - get your little blonde cunt over here and sit on my face."
i disconnect the call.
she's unsure of herself, but she's fearless. she reminds me of me, when i was her age and i'm overcome with this sudden worry that i'm going to ruin her.
she's over in due time - we live on opposite ends of the city, but this late at night, a trip through town isn't a huge deal. i'm sitting on the couch, watching Despicable Me when i hear her knuckles softly tapping at my chamber door. i turn off the television, no need for her to know my nerdiness. i peep out at her, i love looking at people through the peep hole, sometimes i'm quiet on my approach, so they don't know they're being looked at. and others, i don't guard my footfalls - they know i'm looking but they don't know why i'm not opening up. i do the latter. i watch for for thirty seconds and her face does this thing. this cute little flutter of disappointment and a little bit of anguish - over being so openly rejected - just washes over her face. i wait a few more seconds, she raises her hand, to knock again - (considering) i slide the bolt back and open the door. her face lights up, she's like a pathetic puppy.
"come here, you." i reach out and grab her by the scarf, pulling her in. i wrap my arms around her - she's so tiny. i realize with a pang that this is something i'll probably never feel. i'm not a giant woman, but at 5'10" i don't spend a good deal of time around people that make me feel small. she's the kind of woman i could wad up into a ball, if i wanted. it's that little surge of power, of overtaking - that thread of thought that my mind snatches on to, like a dog catching a frisbee in mid air and fucking runs with it. i pull her scarf from her neck, push her fluffy down vest off of her shoulders and onto the floor, i grab her silky looking night shirt by the neck and i pull, hard, jerking it down until it gives, tearing. the sound is somewhat satisfying and drives me into a bit of a frenzy, i push her up against the wall in the entryway - the front door is still open, she's half naked and moaning in ecstasy. my fingers work the drawstring on her pants loose, i bite her lips a little too hard and push her back by the shoulders, slapping her across the face, i yank down her pants, she's not wearing any panties, i'm on my knees, pulling one of her legs over my shoulder, lapping at her cunt like a wild thing. slurping and biting... devouring her. she's got her hands in my hair, she tastes like honey. i open my mouth wide and suck all of her into my mouth, knowing what it feels like, my own starts to pulse with pleasure.
then i stop.
i stand up.
i close the door.
i look at her.
she's a hot mess. barely holding herself up, her eyes are half closed, she's rubbing her firm little tits. every thing about her is small and firm. i step into her once more, not quite touching her, she looks up at me, wanting to close the distance, i put my hand out and run my fingernail up her stomach - leaving a little white trail that turns red from the pressure i apply. i stop at the center of her chest... then trace around one perky little tit, then the other, her nipples strain, so full of blood and feeling and aching to be touched. i turn palm inward now, soft and trace the slopes of her breast up to her neck, my hand easily circling her throat.
i squeeze.
isn't it funny? when we meet people, how they remind us of others? or bring out desires we may have for someone we know and secretly want - to be confronted with them, with their reactions - in the form of another human being - separate, but the same - it goes along with Déjà vu and doppelgängers. we apply certain actions/reactions to them, simply because they are familiar to us in some distinct (or subtle) way.
i'm choking sweet little blonde Alice now - not only because she is a dainty thing that makes me feel powerful, but because she is familiar to me. and i hate that familiarity. it makes me feel like she's sank into me somehow - started to create her own little hollow and i don't want her to. i don't want to like her, i just want to hurt her. her reaction shows that my emotions are well hidden, she turns the appropriate shade of red, lightly knocks her fist against my arm - to tap out. her mouth open, her face tilted up to me, i cover her mouth with my own and breathe into her and kiss her. she responds with youthful hunger, licking her scent from my lips. i straighten up and look down at her.
"get down on your knees." she obliges immediately - do i have a dog? "follow me, leave your clothes." i walk into the living room and sit on he couch - waiting to see what she will do. i'm seated very casually, it's my way of being, my posture tends to give away how i'm feeling, if i feel uptight and uncomfortable, i usually sit on edge, ready to stand - to fight or flight. if i feel comfortable, i tend to sit legs akimbo. i sit this way now.
she waited by the door until i had a seat, then she slowly and somewhat seductively crawled toward me, i watched from the corner of my eye, i don't feel like indulging confidence. she comes round to my right knee and stops, angled toward me, her head bowed, her shaggy blonde locks falling in front of her face. i'm staring at her openly now, her chest rising and falling deeply, she's trying to slow her heart down. her hands are in her lap - postured otherwise perfectly on her knees. a very pretty submissive pose. i roll my eyes and sigh.
"what's on your mind Alice?" she glances at her clothes near the door. then back down to her lap. "look at me." she looks up at me, her cheeks flushing. i do believe she's used to being ravaged when she's naked - not made to talk.
"may i put some clothes on?"
"no."
"if we're not going to..." she trails off to a whisper.
"if we're not going to what?"
"go to your room?" she suggests.
"if i wanted to be in my room, guess where i'd be right now Alice?"
"in your room."
"that's right. what's on your mind Alice?"
"i want to be yours."
"i know."
"can i be yours?"
"i don't think you know what you're asking Alice."
"i want to be yours."
"look at you; can i put clothes on... can i be yours..." i stop myself short of an actual insult. "do you know what i do Alice? do you know who i am? who do you think i am?"
"i'm sorry, i just - i thought if we were going to just talk, i could."
"you're sorry, you thought you could?"
"you're not being fair."
"you're not here to be treated fairly. why are you here Alice?"
"because i miss you.."
"why are you here, you stupid little cunt?"
she's lets out this beautifully rapturous sigh, closing her eyes. i imagine her cunt dripping onto her legs.
"you're a fucking whore Alice - that's why you're here."
"yes...." the word melting off of her tongue.
"what do you expect from this Alice? be honest."
"should i call you something? ma'am? or..."
i simply stare at her, waiting for an answer.
"i don't know. i want to find out."
[right answer]
[i want to skip all the pleasantries with you and get you trussed up like a Christmas goose and in an uncomfortable position on my bed - elevated for my comfort, of course. this is exactly how it is. bound - tied - trapped, not gagged. i like to hear you whimper and moan and beg while i whip your sopping wet cunt with a wide brown leather belt. i haven't broken a sweat, but each grunt, each whimper, each soft moan - ending in a cry of over-stimulation from you, drives me to a new level of desire. i can't tell if you're crying out in ecstasy or agony and i simply cease to care. i am this - i am effort.
i have you open to me, your body, your mind, my will is in you - but i don't have a will. i'm just breathing, wanting, shaking, hurting and soaking your screams up. drinking them in with my ears. i land one more blow, squarely on your throbbing cunt, your juices splattering on to your thighs. i take the belt, fold it in half and shove it into your mouth.]
"remember how this tastes." i bark at her, hoarse - as if i had been the one screaming. "you will love this flavor, if you don't already."
the tears freely run from her eyes, falling into her ears - the one reason i hate crying while laying down, my ears always get wet. i look at her face, studying its stress and agony - it's fluid, changing - she doesn't know how beautiful she is right this second in her not knowing what to feel or how to feel it. her confusion is palatable.
"it's terrible, isn't it Alice." i brush the hair from her sweaty brow, gently and take the belt from her teeth. "to know someone, who gives you such pleasure and fear and such comfort." i trace my fingers down her face, between her breasts, i softly kiss her lips.
"it's chaos." she whispers.
"it gets better." i whisper back.
the doorbell sounds.
she's looking at me, studying me, eye-fucking me again. she's a little fucking rape-slut. she reminds me of me.
the doorbell sounds again.
"persistent. stay here." i wink at her and i wander out of the bedroom. i don't bother checking the peep hole, i know who it is, i open the door.
"Andy."
"ma'am." he smiles.
"don't give me that shit." i open my arms and he wraps himself around me. "come in." i invite him in and lead him to the bedroom.
"what's this about?" he asks.
"let's just get the "easy one" out of the way, shall we?" i start undressing Andy, he doesn't protest. i know she is watching from her place on the bed, not saying a word - being the good little whore she is, i know she won't.
he's already out of his shirt, i'm working on his belt - i love the sound a buckle makes and the subsequent sound of a belt coming through belt loops. he takes the belt from me and puts it around my neck, pulling me to him, then he tilts my face to his, looking into my eyes.
"are you all right?"
"of course i'm all right, why wouldn't i be all right?" i stand on my tip toes to kiss his lips, he regards me for a moment, then leans in and kisses me so deeply, that my head spins. he pulls the belt tight around my neck and i gasp for air.
"i've always loved your feedback..." he growls in my ear, as he kisses my neck and bare shoulder. he grabs my breasts and i openly cry out, my nipples still sore because of the piercings. "new?" he chuckles lightly.
i flick open the button of his jeans with my thumb and slide my hand down, not surprised to feel that he's ready - i unzip his jeans and sink to my knees taking them with me, his generously sized cock jutting like a weapon. this no longer feels fluid and easy for me, it feels trying - awkward, but before i can protest, he's pulling me forward by the belt that's still looped around my neck, saying "say "aaah" for daddy." i glare up at him, but open my mouth and he's in, deep, painful, throat fucking me for all i'm worth or all i'm not worth. he's hard and invasive - none of the soft-firm of the female form, it's the contrast between men and women that opens up so many things for so many people. in this one instance, it both opens and closes me. i go from ceasing to care about Alice to not caring about myself. i am this - i am a vessel.
there are many things about sexual stimulation that are unknown - it doesn't all amount to friction and fucking - a lot of it is a trick to the mind. Andy came fast and hard down my throat, not because he fucked himself to climax, but because of the thought: i have my cock in her throat... in her throat! - it's triumphant, it's powerful. i know the moment he goes - he pulls taught on the belt and quivers, his muscles all straining with full power for a fraction, then release. men are fascinating creatures.
"holy fuck, i need a drink - want anything?" Andy wanders out of the room, his cock cradled in his hand.
"ice water." i shout after him and then mumble. "you motherfucker..."
i'm sitting naked on the floor of my room, my legs crossed under me, i slide to the edge of the bed and peer up at Alice... my eyes level with the edge, she has her face turned toward me, a single tear slides down her cheek, she says nothing.
"are you scared?" i ask her, knowing that she is.
"why are you doing this?" she whispers.
"because i want to." i whisper back. "look at you... i'd love to keep you like this forever, put you in my closet when i'm not using you..." i see her shiver, i know she's flooding herself.
Andy presses the glass of ice water to my neck, i reach up and take it without looking at him, he tenderly rests his hand on my shoulder, i drain the glass and hand it to him, he takes it and then folds himself onto the floor beside me, wrapping his arms around me, nuzzling my neck - generally making a pest out of himself. some men, after the come - they want to sleep, some men - they want to cuddle, Andy - he always wants to go for two and make me go for a million in the process. Alice watches him cuddle me, caress me, nibble my ears, suck my neck - all the things i never let her do. i'd never allowed her to give me affection, i'd never allowed her to please me. and this was a whole new torture, watching him get to do all the things she wasn't yet allowed to do. she's torn, it's obvious on her open book face - just as obvious as she was in the café the first day we met; eye-fucking me from her seat at the bar and her chasing me down to give me back my "sweater" which wasn't a sweater at all - it was a thermal, a long john top - a total butch shirt. she squirted in her panties for the chance to do something for me. what she didn't know, was that i had left it on purpose. (i don't believe in coincidences, perhaps one day - she will stop believing in them as well) she's torn between envy and pleasure. i turn my face away from her and kiss Andy deeply, sucking his tongue into my mouth, biting his lips, the way i kiss her, i kiss him - so she knows she's not special. i break away from Andy and slap him hard across the face - he grins, a little bit of blood on his lip.
"you fucking bitch."
"fuck you Andy." i hiss. i stand up, his face now level with my midsection. "shall we?" i don't wait for an answer, i walk over to my toy chest and select a nice suede flogger, red and black, the red straps slightly thinner than the black and set on the inside - if wielded correctly - it delivers a delicious amount of sting and thud both.
"ah... you're in one of those moods." he smiles. and turns his back to me leaning his hands against the dresser, legs apart.
"i love that you're a sadomasochist." i whisper, too softly for him to hear. i begin to flog him, light strokes at first, finding my rhythm - single Florentine - keeping my shoulders loose, my body open - it's fun to watch, it's fun to do, it's fun to have done. after 20 minutes - i'm breathing heavily, not from exertion, but because i get off on doing it. i start sounding like a Russian tennis player, little gasps and grunts of pleasure. Andy's ass, thighs and back are bright red and hot. i drop the flogger and dive to the floor, licking his hot flesh, biting, kissing. he turns, his cock dripping with precum - he bends and grabs me by the wrists, hauling me off of the floor. i hear Alice moan, watching me get manhandled after the contrast of seeing me flog him. he's all over me, all around me - making me feel small and unsafe. he's squeezing my flesh, bending and sucking my sore, itching nipples - pulling the barbells lightly between his teeth. his hand is between my legs, rubbing me - he looks odd - looking at the outside of things, a large man, bending to get at me, eager. his hardness in contrast of me. i'm soft, with curves. he's a man made of angles. his nose, his body, his cock. every bit of him hard, jutting, imposing, even his hands - which openly covet my flesh, pinching, exploring, rubbing and squeezing the juices out of me like a fist squeezing a peach - his whole hand covers it and he grabs. it always feels like revenge. he's behind me, rubbing me, trying to mold me, break me down - shape me into something i'm not - something i'm never going to be. he pushes me forward onto my stomach, onto the bed next to Alice, sweet Alice - she's still staring at me, silent - her quiet, beautiful tears. i close my eyes for a moment, when i feel his tongue licking me - exploring. his tongue moist and firm, probing my ass, opening me up and licking me out, he shoves my legs open and works his mouth all the way down to my clit next to the mattress. he's urging me up at the hips, his hands under me lifting - patiently, but not. i oblidge, leaving my face against the mattress, my ass up in the air, presenting like a good bitch - he licks me for my efforts and i moan, my mouth hanging open. "lean back, just a little bit darling." he says so sweetly, i pull my legs further under me - i know exactly where he wants me. i feel his stubble brush against my vulva and i squirt involuntarily, i hear him chuckle, then he's silent - except for his kissing, slurping and sucking. i feel his fingers start to explore the parts his mouth isn't. his thumb finds it's way into my anus and he makes it pulse in time with my clit - soon i'm riding his face like i'd ride his cock, moaning in complete bliss. i close the distance between Alice - my lips meet hers and a tidal wave crashes over me - i'm gone.
"i wish i had more to give to you." it wasn't a lie, i gave all that i could. he always walked away - no matter how many times i relived it in my sleep, it never differed from what had happened in life. there was no other way for it to end. someone always leaves.
i'm not gone. things like that don't end us. even if we feel they should, both for good and bad reasons. who wouldn't want to die right after climaxing? what a way to go out! who doesn't want to die when their heart is shattered into a million tiny pieces? what's the point.
i feel that with everything, there is a turning point. shit gets real or goes away. there's always an explosion beforehand. sometimes they're rather anticlimactic. sometimes they blow your mind.
i'm narrating in metaphors and wispy things that make no sense - i'm starting to question reality, just a little bendy bit here and it all started with this story.
it gives me goosebumps.
i've put off ending it because i literally don't know how it ends. i figured out recently why it began though. it was a mixture of things, very complex and very simple. i met a woman at a café, she complimented my tattoo, very shyly and sweetly. she sat at the bar - i sat at a table. i was in her line of site. she kept staring at me. not "gawking" but you know how people stare when they want to catch your eye? yes. it was like that. but she didn't catch my eye. i knew she was staring and pathetic and adorable. and it made me feel like wrecking her. i left my thermal at my table when i got up, it had been tied around my waist - when she visited the toilets, i simply untied it, so that when i stood up to leave, it was left in the seat. poor her for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. i was going through some personal bullshit and when i do that - i tend to get very sadistic and extremely predatory which is the complete and fucking utter opposite of what i had been.
the true and terrible part of it is this. when i'm in this state of mind, this way of being. i am a force and that force is attractive. i'm not fluffing myself. it's called confidence and when you're a predator, you fucking ooze it out of your pores.
the little things of the world pick right up on it.
i feel like i've unlocked new parts of my brain and now that i have them open... the thought of locking them again.. well, it's just not an option.
my wrath is unleashed upon the world.
her world. it's the only world that matters to her.
and now, i'm fucking with it.
it works because it's unknown and exciting.
is there a more exquisite feeling than that after climax? does anyone ever get a sense of foreboding after they come? no. that's why it's so perfect, your mind is flooded with these really cool chemicals and everything is all right, at least for now. this is where i am - floating - sitting on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, my mind somewhere in the atmosphere, my skin is no longer on fire, simply aglow, the little leavings of heat. i don't want to open my eyes - this wellbeing never lasts. shame too, i work so hard to get here.
i feel them watching me.
"Andy, this is Alice, she's the dumb slut who wants to be mine."
"really..."
"she's said it twice."
"interesting... what do you have planned for her?"
i open my eyes, he's regarding her rather thoughtfully - i'm suddenly very glad that he's here. "well, quite a few things actually, but i want to start by shocking her cunt and end with you fucking her. i think i want a baby." i look at Alice; a faceless cunt, lying there, trussed up, - her sopping wet cunt, pink and winking for the world to see. her knees nearly drawn to her elbows, spread open - i plan to spread her further with some really neat clamps. i turn my attention back to Andy. "would you mind getting the TENS unit out of the closet? top shelf, to the left..." i admire his reddened backside when he stretches up to retrieve said "tool box" and decide to regale my captive audience with a story.
"i remember when Andy and i first met... remember that Andy?" i continue, not waiting for a response, but notice he halts with his back turned to me, his shoulders going slightly toward his ears. "he begged me.... called me every day for a week before i relented... mistress... peg me... own me... dominate me... i'll do anything... we had fun, didn't we Andy..." he turns then, i smile fondly, he regards me with a look of rage and embarrassment. my cheeks flush with a little wave of jealousy that he's worried what Alice thinks of him - even though i want him to fuck her - humans are complex. i clear my throat and continue, my eyes never leaving his. "he didn't talk to me for a month, it was worth it. by the end of our first night together, he was a shaking mess... i turned a 6'3" 200 pound former United States Marine - into a quivering mess.... it was beautiful. i was so jacked up and wet by the end and he never touched me... he just took everything i did and thanked me for it." i feel a lump rise in my throat and put my hand up to my face, self conscious. i hear Alice yelp from her place on the mattress as i'm shoved backward onto the bed, he hooks his arms under my knees and shoves his cock inside, he begins fucking me and growling, his face not his own. i clench my teeth and slowly run my hands up his sides, around to his chest and i savagely twist his nipples.
"Andy... are you raping me?"
his eyes clear a little and his pace slows... slows... then stops, his cock halfway in. he looks me in my eyes, considering.
i wrap my arms up around his shoulders, pulling myself close to him and purr in his ear "rape me Andy... but you won't leave me quivering with fear... i love it." my mind is swirling, i'd started telling our story with mirth and ended with choked admiration which he mistook for something else and shit got real. i feel the tension in his shoulders release slightly as he looks into my eyes and sees they're a few shades brighter green and moist with tears. i feel one roll down my cheek, perfect timing - he licks it up.
"i do think you're wrong... i think you're already quivering on the inside." he starts fucking me again, slowly, the rage out of him.
"no." i say in a very offhand way. "you're wrong. you're everything i imagined you would be and more, because you do things that i never expect and it works because i get bored... very easily." i bounce my hips up and down to emphasize and i smash my open mouth onto his.
[people care less about the truth and more about how it's presented to them.]
my body feels languid... it's came hard already - cumming again is easy after the first one is out of the way (that's how i work... the opposite of most men) like Andy... oh... Andy, he's cum down my throat already, so he's hard and he's got to work for his next one, but he decides to make me work for it instead, he flips us over - i'm on top of him now... in his lap... riding his cock. he runs his nails up my thighs, around my hips, scratching... leaving marks, like the ones i'd left on little alice... he's just as hungry for me, as i am for her. he wants to own me. but he can't. but that doesn't stop the want, it never does. can't - has no meaning in terms of desire. he rakes his nails down my back, ending at the small of it - pinching hard, making me arch forward. my tits, he devours, gnawing at my nipples... my poor pierced, not fully healed nipples. i dig my nails into his shoulders as a warning, then rip his head back by the hair and shove my tongue down his throat, biting along the way. i pull back for air and he's chanting at me... "fuck me, whore... you filthy cunt... you greedy greedy slut." i bounce up and down, on my knees, riding him high, he slips his hand down between my legs and starts keeping time with my clit, rubbing it.. my mouth hangs open, i'm panting in his face, deep breaths, deep full breaths that i hold and release... hold and release... he pulls me forward again and kisses my open mouth, pinching my clit hard. my cunt starts doing this magical dance of spasms, clamping down and releasing, milking his cock... encouraging it to join in the fun... it does... i feel Andy's warm spunk shoot up into me and add to the mess inside.
he holds me close, his forehead resting on mine - always forcing his intimacy on me. his sweat lingering with mine. his fluids... mixing with my own. i think... as i feel his cock shrinking out of me... as he's holding me so close... mixing even our oxygen... no. i know. he's in love with me. truly... madly... deeply... kind of love. every song on the radio seems to fit.. kind of love. i feel a little bit of shame for it and a little claustrophobic.
"Sarah... i..."
"Andy...."
"yeah?"
"do you know how much it pisses me off when i buy plain bagels at the bakery and they taste faintly of fruit..."
"Sarah."
"...because they're either boiled or baked or share a space with the blueberry ones. it's infuriating..."
"Sarah."
"...if i wanted a blueberry bagel, i would buy one. i want my plain bagels to taste like.. well, plain, i don't like eating blueberries with turkey or ham. it's not nice." the word nice ends in a squeak of surprise as he pinches my inner thigh.
"focus."
"fuck you."
"why do you have to get nasty?"
"Andy. don't make me hurt you."
"Sarah. i don't want to talk about bagels.. i.."
"just let it be. quit worrying it all the time."
"you're the one that worries. you always worry about people falling in love with you. why?!" he shouts the last of it in my face, pulling me forward.
"because love gets possessive. love angles things. love changes things. morphs... shapes... hollows me out, to fill me up with something else. i'm not fond of it's misery when it ends. i cry for love, but it never cries for me." his cock has slithered its way out of me, it feels like a wet sponge nestled against me. i feel ridiculous having this conversation exposed, naked, vulnerable - his eyes almost coolly resting on me - he feels the change - thinking he may have the upper hand. i feel his grip on my upper arms, his hands shaking, nervous - wanting to shake sense into me - make me see that he'd do anything for me, anything in the world - except retreat.
"why do you have this... weird need to control me?"
"i don't see it as weird." he smiles.
my whole body shivers...
i feel derailed.
"i'm really uncomfortable having this conversation right now."
"it's an intimate conversation - we've just been intimate, what's a better time than this?"
"eh... i don't know." i look over at Alice, her eyes are dry, she has somewhat of a serene look on her face, i smile at her - she smiles back.
"what's up?" he grins, seeing my averted smile and thinking it shy.
"maybe when i don't have a guest to entertain." i look back at him and he's looking at me, an oddly familiar flicker of disappointment passes his face and is gone again, he forces a smile and swallows before continuing in very gentle tones, taking me further into his arms.
"Babe... it's just you and me." i feel his arms tense up, expecting me to bolt.
"what are you talking about Andy, she's right there! i introduced you to her earlier. this is Alice." i reach for her on the bed and she reaches for me with her eyes, still not saying a word. "you said hello to her Andy."
"i didn't say hello to her Sarah, she doesn't exist."
"she's right here!" i stretch for her again, his arms constrict around me, as if he could hold on tight enough he could keep me whole. my fingers come within an inch of her foot before Andy has me hauled over to the other side of the bed.
"Alice doesn't exist." he's got me pinned - looming over me - trying to lock eyes with me, but i keep looking to my right at her. she mouths it's OK and smiles. i look up at him, finally. meeting his blue eyes as if for the first time, i see concern there, love, affection - i see it all - in the windows of his soul and for a fraction of a moment i believe him. i have clarity of everything, i'm plugged in. [i hear her sigh..]
"you need to go." i smile, trying to reassure him, trying to make him comfortable enough to leave.
"Sarah, i'm not leaving, you're not well."
"don't be silly, i'm fine." his eyes are probing the depths of mine, looking for a confirmation. "there's no one there." i laugh and look over to my right again, at Alice trussed up, propped against the pillows. "just you and me...." i smile and look up at him. "i just want to take a shower and go to bed, it's probably near 4 in the morning, i don't want you to sleep over." i paused and then add quickly. "i have to work in the afternoon, i just want to get a decent 8 beforehand."
he just shakes his head at me. "i'll run you a bath, i'm staying." he lifts off of me and pulls me up into his arms. "you seemed so convinced." he whispers into my hair and kisses my temple.
"i'm alright." i fight the urge to push away, i don't want to freak him out. "just, go run the bath, i'll be there in a minute."
"no, i don't think that's a good idea." i let him lead me out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, he sits me on the toilet and turns to the bathtub, adjusting the temperature, holding his hand under the tap. he's three, maybe four feet away from me. i stand, he turns and looks up at me. "what are you doing babe? do you need something?" he's sitting on the side of the tub, running his hand through the water. i bolt through the open door and down the hallway toward the bedroom, i hear him curse as his foot slips on the bathmat, but he doesn't go down - i reach the bedroom door and push it open...
she's gone.
[so here it is for you - laid bare, cut open. i feel ground up, as fine as glass under foot - like there's nothing left of me but the words that i can't seem to give a voice to.]
