He opens the door.
It’s the middle of the night, but I can tell he hasn’t been to sleep.
He lets me in, and I’m here. He knows why I’m here. I know why I’m here. Still, we go through a formality. We talk, we sit on the couch, we pretend.
He knows why I’m here.
It’s easier when it’s dark. The darkness of night hides things. It keeps them a secret. Whether we want it to be or not, it’s a secret. For now. And who would care? I wonder about that. What happens in dark rooms is just for us. It’s not for anyone else. Who would care?
He brings a hand up to my face, leaving it there. I lay my hand over his, leaving it there. There isn’t anyone else. No one else I think about, that I want, that I need. I almost say it out loud, but it looks like he’s going to speak so I kiss him.
I always want more. He’s lazy, he’s slow. His arms are around me, and I can’t think about anything else. He’s on me, and I’m pushed back. His breath is warm on my neck as I feel his hand slide under my skirt. His fingers graze my thighs, and I open them slightly. Giving him access. Giving him permission.
One finger pushes inside me, and I gasp. He kisses my neck, and I’m reaching down to unzip him.
I make a sound.
Thrusting. Faster. Faster.
I want him in me. I whisper it in his ear.
His mouth is on my breast. Licking and nibbling through the fabric. He leaves a wet spot. Please, he says as he kisses his way down. Please. Let me.
My hands are digging into his back. I feel his tongue and his fingers exploring all my peaks and valleys. And I am shaking. Circles. Oh God, those circles….I am trembling. An earthquake under my feet. Shifting of the earth.
Then I feel it. Like a tingle on the back of my neck. It’s like I’m being watched. It’s like I’m on display. I look down, and he’s got me now. He’s got me. Big time.
I grab his head to keep him right there. Oh God. Right there! I might have shouted it. I am on display, and it warms me. Something in me is unleashed and taken, it spills. It’s sharp like a piano note. It rolls up from between my legs, and he’s got me. On his lips, and on his hands, he’s got me.
I take a breath, and he gets up.
I push him onto the couch, and I’m straddling his lap. I unzip his pants and take him out. He squirms with impatience. I guide him to me, then I pause, taking the tip and tracing it along the outside. Can’t he feel what he does to me? This is what he does. I whisper it against his mouth. He sucks at my bottom lip. Impatient. He groans, he begs. Please.
This is what you do to me.
I take him in. As far as I can, as deep as I can. Oh God, I want that pleasant intrusion. That give and take, and his lips are on my neck, his breath. He takes off my top and I feel his tongue, slick and soft, across my nipples. Pointed and aching for his touch.
He grabs my hips. He wants control. I let him have it. His eyes are on mine, and I let him see. This is what you do to me. It’s a tangle of breath and skin, inside and out, and he’s got me. His thrusts get harder, and I’m on display. I feel that tingle down my spine. It prickles on my skin, dripping, pooling where our bodies are joined, where I feel it building, pulsating, like a strobing light.
It’s like something spilled. A cup wavering on an edge, finally tipping over. Warm and thick, he spills into me, and he’s got me. Big time. He shudders again and again, and I’m welcoming, I’m saying yes.
We take a minute. I pant against his neck. I tremble and feel a single tear at the corner of my eye. I let it slide down my cheek and it lands on his shoulder. He can hardly catch his breath. He presses his lips against my ear.
Dana. I love you.
I look at him. Everything unwinds, and I’m not the same. I tell him I love him, too.
And that he’s got me.
I open the door and there she is.
I’m not surprised, but I’m not expectant.
I let her in, and she goes over to the couch. I don’t even have to ask. There’s no point. I know why she’s here. These late nights, I swear, they happen so often. It’s like I wish for her, and she’s here. Sometimes I think I don’t know if I’m awake or dreaming.
I don’t know what we’re talking about. Why talk? Why play this game? I want to ask her that. Doesn’t she know I think about her every second? I dream about her. There’s no escape, and I don’t mind it at all. I’m trapped, and she’s got me. Big time.
I want to remind her of that. Does she remember? I lay a hand on her cheek, and she rests her hand on mine. It fits. So perfectly it fits. How can I love anyone else?
I’m going to ask her, but she kisses me. I forget about it. I forget about the world. I forget about this dark room, which always feels on display. I always feel like I am being watched. I take my time, there’s no rush, but I want her. I want all of her.
I slip my fingers under skirt and slide my way up. She parts her legs, welcoming, wanting. One finger, and I swear it’s like velvet. There’s a saying, there’s a phrase, but I lose it when I hear her gasp.
She stiffens and relaxes.
I can’t stop.
She whispers in my ear what she wants, but it can wait. I’m as hard as rock, but I can wait. I’m thinking of honey and wine. I want that. Now. I pause on my way down to find a nipple under her shirt. I linger there, feel it harden between my lips. I beg her. Please, I say. Please let me.
I love the way she tastes. I love the way she feels. Honey and wine, it’s intoxicating. Oh my God! My head is spinning! She’s holding it still.
And then I feel it. On the back of my neck, a tingle. The hairs raise. Am I on fire? Have I been consumed? By this, by her? I give her more. I give her circles. She likes that, and I can feel her thighs trembling against me. And that feeling…strange…uneasy and familiar...I almost enjoy it.
She’s got me. Her body quakes, and she’s got me. What she does to me…what I can do for her. Honey and wine. Oh my God, I can’t see straight. I can hardly stand up to look at her, shaking and gasping beneath me.
She doesn’t hesitate. She’s on me, and I’m dying for her to touch me. Dying to be inside her. Doesn’t she know? Can’t she see it all over my face? In my eyes? We’ll never be the same. She traces the tip all along the outside, coating me in her wetness, and I can’t stand it. I can’t be still. I can’t be held back any longer. My lips find hers and I beg her. I suck gently on that plump bottom lip. I beg her.
She guides me into her, and I can’t stand it. I’m sweating with lust, with anticipation, with desire. For her. Just her. Always her.
I remove her top. It’s easy now. I kiss her everywhere. Her breasts. Her nipples are hard and eager for me. For my attention, and I give her all of it. She’s got me. She’s got me big time.
I take her in with my eyes. I take control. I watch her and she watches me. I feel as if I’m an open door and she’s the elements. Oh my God! I feel as if I never existed before now. I’m awake, and she’s here. I know why she’s here.
I can’t hold back. Harder. Deeper. She takes me in, she gives herself to me. The sounds she makes, I can’t stand it. The delicious warmth of her, surrounding me, and I let go. It spills, tumbling, and I shiver into her again and again.
Yes. I might have cried it out. Yes.
I fall back, and I can’t catch my breath. I’m consumed. Like dust I’ll blow away by her every breath. And so I tell her: Dana, I love you.
The look in her eyes. I want to remember it forever. And her voice, soft and secretive, loving and kind: I love you, too.
She’s got me.
As soon as I hear their voices, I slip back into his closet. Dammit. I didn’t expect him to come home so early. And I sure as shit didn’t expect her to be here this late. He was nearly asleep on that blasted couch, and I was nearly to the door.
I get so tired of this. Having to sneak in here and plant devices. It’s my special talent. I am like a snake. I am like the serpent in the Garden of Eden; I can tempt. I can make others fall to my will.
But right now my will is lost.
I open the door just a crack and hear them talking. What in the living hell is she doing here? I did not expect this. I curse myself for not being more careful. And I almost revealed myself when he walked in the door. What’s he going to do? He can’t bring himself to kill me. But both of them…if I don’t stay quiet, I’m fucked.
They ramble on an on. It sounds strange to me. Almost forced. I peek through the crack and see them sitting on the couch. Don’t you know what he does on that couch, you bitch? He jerks off to soft core tits nearly every night. I should know. It’s almost comical. And pathetic.
I crouch down as quietly as I can. It’s no telling how long I’ll be here now. Dammit. Opportunities, they come and go for me.
After a few minutes, the talking ceases and it’s quiet. I look again and see them kissing.
I blink again.
Passionately kissing. I shouldn’t be shocked. I’d kiss that bitch every chance I got, but I’m floored.
I watch them.
He’s on top of her now.
I watch him put his hand under her skirt and she gasps. I can’t take my eyes away, and I’m surprised to feel the beginnings of an erection.
It’s her face. The pleasure on her face. I feel my heart begin to pound like a hammer. I swallow. Oh my God.
I watch him kiss his way down her body, whispering things to her I am straining to hear. Oh my God. His head is between her legs, and her face…I lick my lips.
Blood is rushing to my crotch. And I watch. I watch her. And as I watch, I begin to imagine that it’s me. It’s me tasting her, feeling her, making her look that way. It happens so fast. Those unbidden thoughts pour down on my head, and I can’t stop them.
I see her open her eyes and they roam over this way. I scoot back into the closet. Did she see me? I can hear my own breath. I try to hold it in. Her sounds are getting louder, and he’s going to do it. That fucker is going to make her come.
I listen. I watch. And I think about it…I close my eyes, and I imagine…what does she taste like? Oh God, how she must feel. I reach down and I stop. No. No, not here. Later. I can think about it later. When I’m with her. I can close my eyes, and she won’t know. Her blond hair brushing over my skin, her nails down my back. She won’t know that I am imagining her hair is red.
I clench my fists.
I hear her cry out, and it makes me shiver. I feel heated through and through. Aroused and throbbing.
I steal another look and now she’s getting on top of him. Oh my God. I bite my lip. I sink down to my knees and I can’t stop. I can’t stop watching them.
I can only see them from the side, but I know that he’s penetrating her. Oh God, how she must feel. There’s a weakness in my limbs. I close my eyes and listen to her. She’s not on top of him. She’s on top of me. It’s vivid. What I could do to her. The way I could make her feel. I could do things to her that asshole could never do.
But even in this secret world behind my eyelids, I know who she’s looking at. Who is pleasuring her right now. Hatred and lust mix like a poison in my heart.
I hear them. She’s getting louder, and he groans like an animal. I look again and see him quivering, filling her up. I bite my lip again and break the skin. He’s filling her and she’s taking him. I can’t stand it. I taste blood. I taste envy. I taste lust.
I try to slow my breath as I hear them quieten down.
Blood and sweat in my mouth.
My heart is like a hammer on stone.
He has her now, but that will change. I swear it to myself. I look out at her stroking his face, as they whisper their love to each other.
I will have her.