Page 10
Story: Obsessed-
I’d refrain from water for days, just to catch a glimpse of her, satiate the curiosity that’s been plaguing me. Finally knowing whether she is all smooth or fuzzy like a sweet peach between her legs, knowing whether her breasts would feel heavy or light as air in my hands.
My fists clench, my teeth driving so far into my lip that I taste a trace of blood. Want her so damn much. Would kill for her. Ruin myself for her.
Her humming stops as she’s standing by her desk and she lets out a small gasp. It fills the room like a shocked scream and I tense, wondering what’s gotten her so bothered...For a while I think that maybe she hurt herself, stepped on something or pushed against a hard edge and it nearly brings me out of my hiding place.
“Hey G, it’s me,” she says seconds later, sounding perplexed and panting a little. I lift my head to be able to hear her more clearly.
She’s talking on the phone with someone. I’m assuming G is that manager of hers.
“So you know that I always obsessively check my website?” Pause. “Yes, I know it’s bad for me but that’s not why I’m calling.”
Pause and I can hear some yapping on the other side.
“Listen, the website has crashed or something. I can’t find it anymore.” Pause. “Why is this happening now...no, I swear I didn’t touch anything. Aha, all gone.”
“My roommate?”
I freeze.
“Why would he have anything to do with it?” She sighs. “Come on G, why do you always think the worst of people?”
I did it to help her. Shelter her.
“No, he’s great actually. He’s really...”Her voice fills up with emotion and I stop breathing, waiting for her response.
“Nice.”
Nice? That’s it. Nice?
“He’s so gentle. Caring. No it’s not a bad thing, I like that about him but there’s just something about him. Almost like he’s holding back a part of himself, some...secret he wants to tell me but can`t....I know I sound crazy now, let’s just hang up and forget I said anything.”
“Kissed? No we haven’t kissed,” she almost squeals. “And I’m hanging up now. Make sure to get the website fixed. Bye G. Love you.”
Cut. A trace of jealousy spikes in me.
Sighing, she mutters something to herself about the website then crosses the floor over to her bed. My eyes squeeze when she sinks down on the mattress, letting out a comfortable moan that shoots straight through my brain.
I feel her moving around on top of me, bury herself in between her frilly covers and cushions and I press down on my shaft with the heel of my palm, gritting my teeth. I listen to her inhales and exhales, counting her breaths.They’re deep. Relaxed. Good, I don’t want her to have any fears. Or nightmares.
And she won’t, now that she has a guardian monster under her bed.
5
Amber
When Stan came home from work today, the first thing he did was to check in on me. I was busy procrastinating, trying to teach myself to knit and the reprimanding look on his face was so funny that I nearly burst out into laughter.
Shaking his head, he walked over to me, still wearing his cognac colored leather jacket and grey hoodie underneath. He smelled amazing of aftershave, physical labor and hot afternoon sun.
“You know what you should be doing,” he rasped, his eyes attentive as always, “and this is not it.” Then he scooped me up, making me squeal, put me down on a chair and handed me my cello and stroke.
Taking my wrists he placed my hands on the instrument, his touch so overwhelming that I felt it in my whole body. Bending his face down, I could barely breathe as he stood behind me, his cheek brushing against my temple.
“Play,” he said, sounding like he wanted no protests. Like he knows what’s best for me. And judging by how well I played afterwards, maybe he’s right.
Sometimes it feels like he knows everything. Like he knows my dreams and little secrets that not even I am aware of. Sometimes it feels like he’s going to pull them out of me.
And I know that they’d be safe in his hands.
My fists clench, my teeth driving so far into my lip that I taste a trace of blood. Want her so damn much. Would kill for her. Ruin myself for her.
Her humming stops as she’s standing by her desk and she lets out a small gasp. It fills the room like a shocked scream and I tense, wondering what’s gotten her so bothered...For a while I think that maybe she hurt herself, stepped on something or pushed against a hard edge and it nearly brings me out of my hiding place.
“Hey G, it’s me,” she says seconds later, sounding perplexed and panting a little. I lift my head to be able to hear her more clearly.
She’s talking on the phone with someone. I’m assuming G is that manager of hers.
“So you know that I always obsessively check my website?” Pause. “Yes, I know it’s bad for me but that’s not why I’m calling.”
Pause and I can hear some yapping on the other side.
“Listen, the website has crashed or something. I can’t find it anymore.” Pause. “Why is this happening now...no, I swear I didn’t touch anything. Aha, all gone.”
“My roommate?”
I freeze.
“Why would he have anything to do with it?” She sighs. “Come on G, why do you always think the worst of people?”
I did it to help her. Shelter her.
“No, he’s great actually. He’s really...”Her voice fills up with emotion and I stop breathing, waiting for her response.
“Nice.”
Nice? That’s it. Nice?
“He’s so gentle. Caring. No it’s not a bad thing, I like that about him but there’s just something about him. Almost like he’s holding back a part of himself, some...secret he wants to tell me but can`t....I know I sound crazy now, let’s just hang up and forget I said anything.”
“Kissed? No we haven’t kissed,” she almost squeals. “And I’m hanging up now. Make sure to get the website fixed. Bye G. Love you.”
Cut. A trace of jealousy spikes in me.
Sighing, she mutters something to herself about the website then crosses the floor over to her bed. My eyes squeeze when she sinks down on the mattress, letting out a comfortable moan that shoots straight through my brain.
I feel her moving around on top of me, bury herself in between her frilly covers and cushions and I press down on my shaft with the heel of my palm, gritting my teeth. I listen to her inhales and exhales, counting her breaths.They’re deep. Relaxed. Good, I don’t want her to have any fears. Or nightmares.
And she won’t, now that she has a guardian monster under her bed.
5
Amber
When Stan came home from work today, the first thing he did was to check in on me. I was busy procrastinating, trying to teach myself to knit and the reprimanding look on his face was so funny that I nearly burst out into laughter.
Shaking his head, he walked over to me, still wearing his cognac colored leather jacket and grey hoodie underneath. He smelled amazing of aftershave, physical labor and hot afternoon sun.
“You know what you should be doing,” he rasped, his eyes attentive as always, “and this is not it.” Then he scooped me up, making me squeal, put me down on a chair and handed me my cello and stroke.
Taking my wrists he placed my hands on the instrument, his touch so overwhelming that I felt it in my whole body. Bending his face down, I could barely breathe as he stood behind me, his cheek brushing against my temple.
“Play,” he said, sounding like he wanted no protests. Like he knows what’s best for me. And judging by how well I played afterwards, maybe he’s right.
Sometimes it feels like he knows everything. Like he knows my dreams and little secrets that not even I am aware of. Sometimes it feels like he’s going to pull them out of me.
And I know that they’d be safe in his hands.