All of Her Men

by Lourdes Bernabe

  I was trying to avoid going out for another kill but the longer I restrained myself the more I yearned for it. I didn’t think I’d be able to hold out for much longer. Usually, I could control how and exactly when I went out for a kill. But there were times when emotions got the best of me. I grew crabbier and crabbier as the days went by. I got cranky if I couldn’t kill. I could always blame the bad attitude on PMS or some other female malady, but it would do little to fix the problem. There was a difference back when I believed that no one was aware of my extra curricular activities.

  Knowing how deeply mistaken I was, it was as if someone had rudely pushed a pin to the little balloon that was my world. My bubble was burst. Part of the reason I enjoyed my nightly excursions was my anonymity in it all. I brought myself to a place where I was unknown to all and all was unknown to me.

  Unfortunately, that was no more. It saddened me to know that going forth from now, instead of completely immersing myself into my project, I would be thinking about the fact that someone could be, might be watching. It wasn’t for shame or fear. Not really. Exhibitionism just wasn’t my thing. Sure, exhibitionism could become a welcomed element of a kill, but more on a level that I might get caught.

  How could I be sure that Derek or any of the others wouldn’t take curiosity about what I do to another level? One in which they stalked me and tried to go along on what used to be a solitary field trip. The truth was that I couldn’t be sure. Not anymore. What was once certain was no more. The situation begged the question. How long would I be willing to sit it out and abjure my needs?

  There was no way for me to know for sure. Yet, I knew for certain that I couldn’t wait forever. I couldn’t even fathom surviving such a denial of my instinct for any measurable amount of time. It would go against my very nature to deny myself even the tiniest morsel of pleasure. I was a hedonist by the very definition of the word. I lived to enjoy the endless bounds of Earthly pleasures and to deny my source of that very pleasure would extinguish the essence of my existence.

  I needed to distract myself if I planned on holding out.

  What better way to shift gears than to call Eric. Ah, Eric. Of course, Eric wasn’t the man to satisfy my most basic needs but he’s always been able to fill a specific niche in my life. He was the innocent ying to my vicious yang. I could always count on him to please me the way a woman needed to be pleased. If I called him now, he could be at my apartment in twenty minutes flat. I supposed I could wait that long. Why oh why couldn’t he just magically beam himself into my bedroom and do exactly what I wanted him to do?

  I dialed his name into my iphone and it rang what seemed like a hundred times, though obviously it didn’t. Finally, he answered the phone.

  “Hey babe. What’s up?”

  “Hi honey. How are you?” I said.

  “I’m good. I’m headin’ out to play basketball at Martin’s house. We finally got a couple of guys to get a game going,” he said.

  “Yeah, that doesn’t really work for me,” I said. “I want you to come over.”

  “Jolene, I haven’t played in weeks. All the guys are going over there and I really wanna play,” he pleaded.

  “I know honey. But I haven’t seen you in a few days and you know how I get. I’m a woman with very special needs,” I replied. “And…in case you’ve forgotten. It’s your job to fill those needs. Otherwise, why keep you around?” I was teasing him and he knew it.

  “You’re a fucking bitch. You know that right?”

  Of course I was a bitch. I wouldn’t argue that. But this conversation was boring me with each and every additional word that either of us spoke. “Eric, if your dick isn’t at my door in 30 minutes or less, you’ll have the answer to your question.” I hung up the phone assuming he’d received the message loud and clear.

  With Eric on his way over I figured it was the perfect time to take a shower. I was in and out of the shower without much fuss and it took me only a few minutes in front of my closet to decide what to wear. I grabbed a black see-through bra and the accompanying black V-string thong.

  I decided to add a touch of simple make up to the repertoire and proceeded with the blush and lipstick. Something was off. Was I forgetting something? The apartment was so quiet. I couldn’t even hear the usual deafening rock music seeping from the next door neighbor’s apartment. I grabbed the remote to the television in my bedroom and put it on the first porn channel I could find.

  Perfect. It was a threesome. A cute little blonde, couldn’t have been more than 20 years old, was sucking on a huge white cock while another generously endowed young black fellow fucked her doggy style. Blondie looked to be struggling a bit but she was takin’ it like a champ.

  I turned back to look in the mirror to put the finishing touches of my mascara. I primped until there was no primping left to be done. Which was easier said than done. I kept getting distracted by all the fucking I could see through the reflection in the mirror. Oh how I tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but my brain could not override the visual. I’d often heard that men were only capable of thinking with one head at a time. So what was my excuse? I swore my clitoris did all my thinking, or lack thereof, for me.

  By the time I finished with all the necessary preparations, the scene had changed and the three lovebirds were on a couch. Blondie was still taking in two cocks but in a much lovelier fashion.

  Double penetration. What a lovely image. Black Mandingo, with his big juicy biceps sat comfortably on the couch while Blondie sat on his engorged penis. This man was blessed. It was the type to make you question if that shit was real or not. No matter, though. It looked good. Then, white boy shuffled in and started fucking her tiny asshole while Mandingo simultaneously pounded away at her pussy without mercy. She screamed in both pleasure and pain.

  I was just getting into it when there was a knock at my door. I checked my cell for the time and twenty minutes had indeed gone by since I had spoken to Eric. I opened the door wearing only the bra and thong and there was Eric.

  I stepped to the side allowing him to come in and then I shut the door.

  “Good boy. Just in time,” I said.

  He smiled unwillingly. After all of our years together, he still blushed when he saw me naked. I wasn’t quite nude but it was close enough.

  “You bait me with pussy whenever I feel like hanging out with the guys,” he said. “It’s not nice.”

  “Is there a problem with that?” I asked while grabbing a red bull from the fridge and taking a sip.

  “Jolene, you’re evil, he continued. “You’re -”

  I walked to my bathroom and shut the door loudly. Whatever it was that Eric felt the need to say; I wasn’t interested. His complaints fell on deaf ears. Through the door, I could hear he had stopped talking and was walking around the apartment. I opened the door to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a joint. I lit it up and took a deep pull. I exhaled as I watched my reflection in the mirror. I took another hit and my eyes began to droop. Marijuana was a beautiful thing.

  “I’ll be just a minute,” I called out to Eric through the door.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m looking for a decent movie while you smoke up in there.” he called back.

  I finished off the joint and flushed it. I washed my hands and opened the door. I didn’t really know how long I was in the bathroom. I walked into my room and Eric was sitting there facing the window playing with what I assumed was his phone. I couldn’t have been in the bathroom long because I looked up at the giant flat screen on my bedroom wall and Blondie was still sucking away on both Mandingo and the Eminem look- alike.

  Lying down on the bed, I ignored Eric and slowly started to rub my clitoris. I kept my eyes on the threesome on screen. The bud helped to get things moving and I wanted Eric to join me. “Baby come eat my pussy,” I whispered over to him. He got up from the bed and come over to my side but he held something in his hand. As he came closer it gleamed and shock ran through me. It was a knife.

  It wasn�
��t my usual knife but it was THE knife. The one I received just recently. “Jolene, what is this?” he asked.

  What could I say? I didn’t have an answer that would satisfy his question. I felt clueless as to how to respond. I was panic stricken and I wondered how much of it he was able to pick up on. I pulled myself up to a sitting position on the bed and quickly grabbed it from his hand.

  “How did you find this?” I asked wielding the knife. The sharp edge of the knife glimmered in his direction. I was stalling, unsure of my next move.

  “I was looking for a movie in your bookshelf. I saw a box and opened it. Why the fuck do you have this? When did you get it?” Confusion contorted his facial features. His thoughts began to settle and I saw fear. And that fear tormented me. The last thing I ever wanted was for Eric to be afraid of me. I enjoyed toying with him sexually, yes. But I could never hurt Eric in any way.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” I dismissed his questions. I knew what I had to do.

  I laid back down into the bed slowly. I opened my legs as I stared directly into Eric’s eyes. With knife in hand, I pointed at my pussy. Bringing the knife down gently, I carefully nicked the black thong and it flung open to reveal just how aroused I had become.

  “Eat my pussy,” I repeated. However, this time, it was a command.

  Eric’s eyebrow popped up and his neck twisted to the side as if he’d taken offense to my words. His green eyes shot back and forth between my face and my pussy. Still confused about the knife, I could see the questions mounting on his face. But still, none of that was enough to stop the blood rushing to his dick. He climbed into the bed and put his face directly in front of my open legs. He stopped to enjoy the scenery for a moment or two and then dove right in.

  Dear Jesus. I laid back to enjoy the view of Eric devouring me in the form of The Last Supper. His passion to serve me was unquestionable. The ruffled hair atop his head was all I could see as his face was lost in the world between my thighs. My palm squeezed the all powerful knife in my right hand and the surge of carnal bliss threw me into a state of pleasurable despair. I needed more and I couldn’t wait. I tapped the tip of the blade on Eric’s head motioning for him to come up.

  Eric pulled his weight forward. His face came up to meet mine and then he grabbed my head with a powerful grip and forced his mouth onto mine. I could taste myself on his tongue. Delicious. Still I wanted more. I shifted down a bit and shoved his hips into mine. I was lost in carnal bliss.

  The sounds of heavy breathing were the only sounds escaping from Eric’s mouth. Still, Blondie continued to suck those cocks on screen. They put her to work. Hopefully, Eric wouldn’t take note of the movie’s slight distraction. His thrusts slowly increased in speed and pressure. I was almost there. Mandingo continued to fuck Blondie viciously while Eric continued to pound away at me. I squeezed the knife once more.

  My thoughts began to take a starker turn. The knife was right here, nestled in my firm grasp. Brand new, having never been used; I felt it calling upon me. Using the knife on Eric right here would make the perfect maiden voyage for such a beautifully crafted knife? My own thoughts bewildered me. I knew I didn’t want to kill Eric. Yet, suddenly I felt as if I had to.

  My instincts were comparable to that of a praying mantis. There were certainly times when I could withhold myself from killing an innocent partner. I’d hoped that part of me, the part that didn’t need to kill, would show up and save me from my own self. But I could feel myself coming. “Harder baby!” I screamed. Containment was no longer a possibility. My eyes squeezed shut and my neck curled back. The knife in my hand came up and sliced across Eric’s neck as my body convulsed in harsh waves of pleasure.

  Then I felt the quiet. Everything stood still as I regained control of my breathing. Moments passed by before my eyes fluttered open to see that I had not indeed killed my precious Eric. I’d wanted to. But I hadn’t. Thank God. My imagination had simply gone too far. Better it be my imagination than my actions.

  Eric disengaged and I remained in the same position for a while longer. I couldn’t move. I could have moved had I tried, I simply lacked the motivation to do so. I just wanted to be. Droopy lids shaded half my eyes as I stared into the ceiling while both my body and mind recovered from the aftershocks of a pulsating orgasm. I rested blissfully for a few short moments and then I shot up out of bed like a canon.

  “What are you doing?” Eric asked with his head still buried in his pillow. His muffled words were just barely audible enough to comprehend.

  “Let’s get dressed. It’s still early. I’m not calling it a night at 7:00pm,” I said irritated. I knew if I allowed myself to sloth away I wouldn’t wake till 8:00am. I didn’t want to spend yet another perfectly useful night thinking of what to do next.

  To sit here for the rest of the night with only a sleeping Eric and my troubled thoughts to accompany me would be too pitiful for me to bear yet again. No. With the mounting workload that the office had sent me, I was sure to be working for days without a break. Tonight, I would enjoy myself. “If you hurry, your friends might still be playing basketball,” I suggested. “Maybe you can get a game in?”

  “Huh?” he groaned. “You want me to leave? We just finished. You’re not even gunna let me relax and enjoy the night?”

  “Yeah…no, that’s not gunna work tonight babe. I actually have a lot of work to do before the end of the week and I really need to catch up,” I lied.

  I needed to rush him out of the door before he would get back to questions about the knife. I could make up a story later, but I didn’t want to waste time on that now. If only I could literally pick him up like a cat and throw him out my door. But that would be wrong, of course. But it couldn’t be wrong to think it right?

  I watched him begin to dress while I rearranged my room back to its usual picturesque state. Satisfied that he was out of bed and readying to leave I went into the kitchen for that can of red bull. It was waiting for me right on the counter just as I had left it. I drank it while I perused the books on my bookshelf. My collection was beginning to grow quite extensive. One day, I would be proud of the vast collection of books I had amassed in my home.

  Eric argued they were a waste of space. I couldn’t argue with such foolishness. One could not argue with a man who couldn’t see the beauty in the written word. He thought my books were a waste of space. I thought watching sports all day were a waste of time and energy. Hell, I’d even dared to say that he was a waste of space. I’d never say that to his face of course. Admittedly, I wouldn’t even really mean it. I loved Eric. That much would always be true. But at times, his mind was a bit too simple for my taste.

  No one’s perfect. I certainly had faults of my own. I would even go as far to say that Eric embraced those faults whole-heartedly. Could I not do the same for him? Not that a relationship was necessarily tit for tat. I turned a blind eye to his ignorance to the artistry of life and he looked past the fact that sometimes, though not always but a large amount of the time, I was a cold heartless bitch.

  He knew this of me and still stuck around.

  He had chosen to stay and submit to my whims while another man may have left by now. Not that that would be a problem. The single life is one to be cherished. Solitude would facilitate my lifestyle immensely. I would come and go as I pleased. Pun intended. But as much liberty as I would have, I wondered how much of life I would truly enjoy without Eric at my side.

  Eric provided a necessary balance. Without him, how often would I turn to my blissful moon-lit excursions? Sure, it’d be fun at first. But my father always reminded me of one thing, and I never could quite forget that all important piece of advice. Everything in excess was bad for you; even drinking too much water could kill a man. You couldn’t argue with that kind of old-fashioned logic. It was truer- than true.

  Were I to be honest with myself, and I often tried to be as sincere as possible, the answer would be… too often. I would succumb to my calling far too often that eventually wha
t I did and how I did it would begin to lose its luster. I shuddered at the thought of how I could possibly take all that I do and push it to a further limit. How far was too far? What were the boundaries? When would I decide I’d had enough?

  The answers to these questions terrified me more than I cared to admit. Without someone like Eric to hold me back and give some semblance of structure to my life, I would most likely spiral out of control and most likely end up incarcerated. It’s a possibility even now. Technology advanced quickly and any number of sciences could tie me to any number of murders and disappearances. Anything could happen.

  “Jolene. Jolene. JOLE-ENE!!!” Eric screamed. He must have been calling me but I was lost on a trail of deep thought.

  “Sorry, I was thinking out the week ahead. Like I said, I’ve got a shit load of work to do,” I lied once more. “Thanks for coming by. I needed it. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked. I wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that I was rushing him out.

  “Uh…I dunno. Just call me. I dunno what I’m doing after work,” he said disappointed. It was obvious. He’d wanted to stay the night and I basically gave him the boot. But honestly, he was just asking for too much. I got what I needed and so did he. What more was there to do? Snuggle? Spoon? That wasn’t on the menu tonight. I made a mental note to appease his need for affection the next time around. You can’t give men everything they want all at once or they won’t want it anymore. I gave him the obligatory hug and kiss and he was out the door without saying another word.

  Chapter 19

  I glanced at the clock in the kitchen. It was only 7:15. The night was young as was often said. I turned the TV onto the local news station. I let it play in the background and grabbed my cell. There were a couple of missed calls from my mother and one from my best friend Olivia. None of them would be able to entertain me tonight though. Their lives were filled with the type of normal mundane routines that I tried so hard to distance myself from. Whatever they wanted to discuss would just bog me down right now. They could wait until morning for a return phone call. I needed something else tonight.