by Lisa De Jong
Looking at each other without saying a word, it’s Arsen who breaks the silence, “Go ahead. Touch my cock. I know you want to. I can see it in your eyes.”
I shake my head. “No. Stop it, Arsen. You’re delusional.”
“You do. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You want me, Catherine. So stop fucking lying to yourself. Shit, even when your perfect husband was sitting right next to you at the bar, you could not stop staring at me.”
“A-Are you crazy? I don’t want to. We are—”
“Say it. I dare you. What are we, Dimples? Why don’t you fucking tell me what we are?”
“Why are you doing this?” Tears burn my eyes.
“Why did you bring him?”
“Who?”
“Your husband!” he shouts.
“H-He wasn’t here.”
“Yes, he was. He saw the whole fucking thing. And I gotta say, I’m fucking glad he did.”
“Oh, Arsen. What have you done? Does that make you feel any better?”
“No, it doesn’t make me feel better, but I can’t fucking get you out of my head. And I’ve tried. Trust me, I’ve tried so fucking hard. But seeing you here,” he pushes his body against mine, “I know one thing. And I’m fucking done pretending, Catherine. Hell, I fucking missed you. I need you.”
I shake my head vigorously, denying his words and the way they make me feel. “No. You’re crazy.”
As his breathing slows down, he smiles. “Your eyes betray you, Cathy, and I can practically smell your pussy getting wet for me. I gotta say, Dimples, it’s fucking turning me on.”
I feel shame and anger rising inside of me. He is right.
“I don’t want you. Get off your high horse, buddy. You are good looking, yes, but I’m married and not interested. You’re my friend, and that is all, Arsen. You’re a child to me.”
I’m lying, lying, lying.
The smile is wiped clean off his face. I’m glad.
“A fucking child? A friend?” The hurt in his eyes is like death to me.
“Please, let me go. You’re imagining things, Arsen.” Turning around, my back to him, I reach for the doorknob when I feel the whole front of his body press against my back. I close my eyes as I feel a shiver running through my entire body. He pushes me forward until my front is against the door, and my back is glued to his. I feel him everywhere, from his hot breath hitting behind my ear and neck, to his bulging erection on the small of my back.
“Please, Arsen. Don’t do this. I’m married,” I beg with all my heart.
“What if I told you that I don’t care that you’re married? I don’t mind sharing. What if I told you that I’ll settle for fucking you once? Just once where I’ll make you come so hard on my cock that you’ll forget that you’re married and beg me for more? And if you’re a good girl, Dimples, you may get it again before I let you go back to your husband, sore between your legs because I fucked you so good.”
I’m shocked and aroused.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I so turned on when he basically just insulted me and my marriage. “I-I think you’re drunk, Arsen, and you need to sleep. You’re not attracted to me. You think you are, but you aren’t.”
Immediately pushing his hips forward, I feel the ruthless pressure of his erection on my back again. Arsen brings his mouth close to my ear to whisper words that make my stomach tighten with excitement and fear.
“Does this feel like I’m not attracted to you? You’re fucking gorgeous, Catherine. And I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. Fuck, all I could think that night every time I watched you take a sip of wine was that I wanted your lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me hard and fast. And whenever you uncrossed your legs, I could only imagine what it would feel like to spread them open for my cock to get inside of your tight pussy and fuck you right on the table. It’s been fucking hell wanting you and not being able to have you, not being able to do anything about it,” he pauses, “I want you, Catherine.”
When the word pussy left his mouth, he touches me there, slowly rubbing me over my skirt, his hand sliding in and out, his fingers trying to go as deep and close to my clit as my skirt will allow him.
“Mmmhmmm…yes, you are so fucking hot. Feel how hard your wet pussy is making my cock…I bet I could slide your panties to the side and fuck you nice and hard right against this door, right now.”
His words snap me out of my haze.
What the hell am I doing? I get it together, slap his hand away and turn around to face him one more time. The last time.
“Get your fucking hands off me. Who do you think you are to speak to me like that? Does it work with other women? You tell them you’re going to fuck them, and they just spread their legs for you? You’re too pretty for me. I like real men. And my husband is everything you are not. A man.”
I see anger replacing disbelief in his handsome features. I lied when I said that he was too pretty and not a real man. He is beautiful. Before I lose steam and my own anger is replaced by fear, I forge on, “You picked the wrong woman to mess with. I’m happily married to a great man whom I love so very much. A-And I’m not interested in fucking you. My hand would probably do a better job.”
So not true.
He looks so angry. And baffled. Just as I think I have put him in his place, Arsen gets himself under control. There is a mean, almost cruel smile that doesn’t reach his eyes on his face. “Baby, you may say no to me tonight and pretend that you’re above all this,” He grabs my hand, guiding it towards his dick as he makes me rub him over his jeans, “But you’ll beg me to let you suck my cock one of these days, mark my words. You’re so fucking wet right now. I can smell it.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“But you want me,” he says flatly.
“I’m pregnant with another man’s child!” I yell.
As I remind him and myself of my state, I feel Arsen wince as his hand goes immediately slack. Good. I’m repulsed by the reaction his touch awakens in me and I want to make him feel just as sick.
“Fucking hell. I-I…” he mutters.
I take advantage of his momentary shock and manage to snatch my hand free of his hold. The air feels saturated by the powerful currents of electricity flowing between us as we stare at each other. It’s tangible. Realizing that this is my chance to escape before he says something else, I move as fast as I can, unlocking the door and fleeing. Not looking back, I leave him and his bittersweet words behind—where they belong.
On my way back to the bar, I see Sali talking to Ben. He looks so familiar and formidable, so different from Arsen. Day and Night. How did she know that was my husband?
“Hi, babe. When did you get here?” I’m surprised my voice sounds so calm when there’s utter turmoil inside me.
“I’ve been here for a while. I even saw Arsen perform, but I couldn’t find you, so I stayed at the back, “ Ben says without looking at me.
I reach out for his hand and make him look my way. “Oh. T-That performance was great.”
Sali cuts in, and I silently thank her with all my heart. “Whoa. And what a performance that was! You know, it’s upsetting to see he’s still so hung up on that woman he was seeing back in Paris. Such a waste. But you know how those bored married socialites like to play around with young meat. Mind you, it was totally shitty for him to get involved with one, but that’s Arsen. He likes to play with fire. Cathy, I think you should go. I mean, I think I overreacted when I called you. He’s actually much better. Not as drunk as I suspected. So yes, thanks guys! Ben, it was great meeting you! And Cathy, before I forget, come with me to the bar so I can borrow a pen and take down the info of your hairdresser. I love your highlights!”
Confused, I stare at her beseeching eyes. What is she talking about? I nod and follow her after she says goodbye to Ben. As I follow her to the bar, I turn around just as Ben lifts his hands to his face, the palms roughly rubbing his eyes as if trying to expunge images from them.
When
we get to the bar after the crowd opens up to let us through, a sober Sali addresses me. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Arsen, but that was fucking messed up. You need to back off. I didn’t know you were married and when I found out you were I still didn’t care. Arsen likes pussy and he fucks whatever he wants and whenever it’s offered to him. But that,” she points at the stage, “Is not cool. That’s my friend hurting. So you better drop your innocent act and get the fuck out of here. Go back to your husband who seems to be a really nice guy and don’t contact Arsen again. He’ll get over you. He always does. Now, get lost, bitch.”
And she’s gone.
What have I done?
Numb, I walk back to Ben and pretend that what just happened in the bathroom between Arsen and me never actually occurred. That Sali never uttered those horrible things to me and that the whole performance never happened. As we’re getting ready to leave, my stomach drops when I see Arsen making his way towards us. Ben must spot him as well because all of a sudden he wraps his arm around my waist so tightly that it feels like my bones are going to break.
When Arsen is standing in front of us, he doesn’t ignore me like I thought he would. He continues to behave as flirtatious as before, but now when I look at his eyes they appear cold and empty.
“Ben. Fucking great to see you again. Hope you enjoyed the show.” He aims his blank stare at me, hissing, “Hope you’re not missing me too much at work. Anyway, I wanted to thank you both for listening to my shitty friends and coming to my rescue but as you can see, there’s no need. They are assholes who think I need saving…fuck that shit. I need more alcohol and pussy.”
His words are like punishing lashes to my body, making me flinch in pain.
****
When I get home, I feel dirty and guilty. I know I didn’t ask for Arsen to follow me to the bathroom, to touch me and say all those things to me. I did not. At all. But I can’t get him out of my mind. And worst of all, I wanted them to be true at that moment.
Ben was quiet and pensive on the drive home, but he didn’t seem to withdraw from me like the last time we saw Arsen. He asked me what I thought of Arsen’s song, and I was able to give him an honest answer when I told him that it was good. After that, he dropped the subject and asked me about my day.
Nothing else.
Was he ignoring what happened back at the bar? Or was he in denial like I was?
After I take a shower, I put on a silk babydoll, apply cream to my face, and make my way to bed. I’m exhausted, and I just want to close my eyes and put the day behind me. I need respite from my thoughts for a couple hours.
I’m awakened when I feel the bed depress next to me. Ben. My sweet, sweet husband. Without thinking, I reach for him. Maybe if I touch him, I won’t crave someone else. Pushing myself closer to his front, I begin to kiss him all over his chest. I shower small kisses around his hard chest and over the ripples of his abdomen. I’m using his body to distract me, but it works because suddenly I want Ben to touch me. To make love to me.
“Jesus, Cathy…what are you trying to do to me?” He whispers huskily into the dark room as he lets me explore him.
“Let me show you…” I say breathlessly.
As soon as my hand wraps around his growing erection, he pulls me on top of him and lifts my baby doll dress, growling when his eyes narrow on my nakedness. Slowly, he turns my body around, guiding his dick to my lips as he brings my hips closer to his mouth. His fingers gently spread me open and I feel his tongue inside of me, tasting my arousal. I’m losing my sanity and dying of pleasure. As I moan, I let the sweet traction of his tongue, and the gentle pressure of his stroking fingers give me what I need, what I want. Craving more of Ben, I push his now hard dick all the way inside my mouth until I feel tears in my eyes. He is so large and thick, but I like the choking sensation I get as if I can’t breathe.
Minutes pass, the room is permeated with the smell of sex, we’re all hands, mouths, skin against skin, sweat is everywhere, helping us move, helping our bodies glide. Climax within our reach, I close my eyes and give in, getting lost to the magic of his satiny tongue. My body explodes as I taste his cum land on my tongue. Ben raises his hips, the tip of his dick hitting the roof of my mouth as my name crosses his lips branded with my flavor. Shutting my eyes tighter, I swallow him clean.
When I’m climaxing, it is Arsen who I think about.
Now I know why I felt so guilty.
He was right.
Arsen was right.
I did want him.
I still do.
I feel so filthy because I want his touch and his hot breath on my skin once more. I feel so fucking polluted because just thinking about his hands on me still makes me so wet. I feel ashamed and disgusted with myself because Ben hasn’t been able to turn me on like this for a very long time.
I can’t believe it.
And what is worst of it all?
I want it to happen again.
So badly.
****
After tossing in bed for another hour, I give up my fight with insomnia and go in search of a glass of water. Flushed and hot, my mouth feels parched with thirst, but the water doesn’t help at all. Screw it. I need to cool down. I open the freezer and stick my head in while getting blasted in the face by cool air. It feels delicious. Calmer, I make my way back to bed.
As my head hits the white, fluffy pillow, I turn to look at the clock. Its neon light lets me know that it’s close to three in the morning. Groaning, I flip on my side and begin to fall asleep when the vibration of my cell phone startles me, waking me up. Blindly, I reach for my phone and stare at the letters that together form a name that has engraved itself in the deepest recesses of my mind.
Looking over my shoulder to the man sleeping next to me, I watch an unsuspecting Ben, oblivious in his sleep. A nervous energy runs through me that causing my hands to shake.
Should I answer?
What if I wake Ben up?
I want to answer.
I need to speak to him.
I need to hear his voice.
You shouldn’t.
Wavering, hesitating, vacillating.
Good intentions lose the battle as I feel an overwhelming panic consume me at the thought of not speaking to him ever again because somehow, call it a hunch, I know that if I don’t answer this phone call he’ll be lost to me.
Forever.
And I’m not ready for that. I’m not. Glancing over my shoulder one last time, I pray that he stays asleep and never finds out about this, none of this. It’s not cheating if I just speak to him, right? Right. With my mind made up, I get up and leave the bedroom as fast as possible, without faltering once in my step. When I reach the bathroom, I shut the door behind me, lower the toilet seat cover and sit down. Body shaking and breathing heavily, I clean my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand as I try to calm down.
Can I do this? Is this right? Why do I feel like throwing up? Why am I hiding in the bathroom? I don’t know. I’m about to crash and explode, and I don’t care. For him, I don’t care. I press redial and wait.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
He’s not going to answer. It’s too late.
Moving the phone away from my ear, I almost end the call when his raspy voice greets me.
“I can’t get you out of my mind.”
“Arsen…”
“I’ve tried so hard to let you go, you know?”
“I-I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I just fucked a random woman, and I thought about you the entire fucking time.”
Silent, I feel sick by his words. I’m sick with jealousy.
Sick with disgust.
Just sick.
“Is this real? Was any of it real?”
“The friendship was—”
“Fuck friendship. I never wanted to be your friend.”
“This is not fair. You said that you wanted to be—”
/> “I know what I fucking said, Catherine. I know. I tried. I failed.”
“I’m married.” I swallow hard. “And pregnant.”
Silence. I hear him breathing heavily on the other line. Each breath that he takes is a punch to the gut. Did I lead him on? Did I know what was going on?
I always knew.
“Fuuuck. I tried. Once you told me you were, I tried backing off, getting you out of my mind, and be your friend but,” he groans, “this is so fucking messed up. I tried. That’s all I can say.”
After a few minutes of total silence, I hear Arsen ask, “Do you love him? Because if you do, you wouldn’t have answered. I wouldn’t matter.”
“Of course I love Ben! Answering your phone call has nothing to do with loving my husband or not.”
“You want me.”
“No. I don’t. I like you as a friend. I care for you as a friend.”
Lie.
“Bullshit. You want me. As much as I want you, maybe more. I felt how fucking wet your pussy was. For me. Not for him. But you know what? I’m done. It’s not fucking worth it. Goodbye, Dimples. I hope you have a good life.”
“Wait! No—”
Click.
The line goes dead.
Just like a small part of me.
Chapter 17
Past
“Perfect death,” Ben murmurs.
“What?”
“I’m dead.”
“What do you mean you’re dead?”
The man was just kissing the shit out of me not a minute ago.
“Your lips kill me.” He looks into my eyes and huskily whispers, “They are the perfect death. My perfect death.”
“Oh.”
As Ben and I cuddle in his bed...actually, make that our bed since I officially moved in yesterday afternoon. I can’t believe we’ve been together for four years already. It seems like I met him just yesterday. No joke. But even after all this time, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this feeling of pure bliss I get whenever he’s next to me. He makes me so happy and complete.