by L. A. Banks
All I wanted to do was lay in bed and wait for the “incident” to begin pleasuring me, having its way with me. The most I did in that week was bathe and soak away the soreness. I drank water but food wouldn’t stay on my stomach.
I was like a junkie, hooked on dick. A dick I couldn’t see, only feel.
I was losing my mind a little bit more day by day, but I didn’t care as long as the feeling never stopped. I was willing to sacrifice anything to have it.
By the end of that first week, I was so drained, I could barely get out of bed to bathe, but it didn’t seem to mind. It came to me anyway, and when it got tired of licking and fucking my pussy, it took me from behind.
I never thought I’d enjoy that kind of sex but I did. I loved it, craved it, gave it up with pleasure and begged for more. I’d found my Mr. Right.
That Sunday I finally dragged myself out of bed and took a long hot bath. I felt tired but calm inside. This was my world now. I’d come to accept that.
Just as I was coming out of the bathroom, there was a pounding on my door.
“Chris open this door or I’m coming in. The super is with me. Open the door, Chris!”
I fastened the belt of my robe. My house was a mess, I noticed for the first time. Padding to the front door, I pushed the hair away from my face and opened it.
“Hi,” I croaked.
Mel pushed the door open. My super tried to peek inside but I shut the door in his face.
Mel whirled toward me. “What the hell is going on with you?” She looked wildly around then sniffed the air. Her gaze zeroed in on mine. “Chris…what is going on? You haven’t been to work, you won’t answer the phone and your apartment smells like a fuckin’ brothel.”
Trancelike I turned away from her and sat down on the couch, tucking my feet beneath me.
“I’ve been fucking,” I said in a deadpan voice.
“What?”
“I’ve been fucking, for hours and hours every night.” I smiled and I’m sure I must have looked like a loon when I did. “I finally found Mr. Right.”
Mel slowly lowered herself into a chair opposite me. “You mean to tell me that you haven’t been to work in a week because of some good dick? You have got to be kidding me.”
I shook my head, no.
“Chris, let’s be reasonable. Is he going to pay your rent, your bills and buy your food when you lose your job?”
I blinked, trying to clear my head. I hadn’t had a conversation with anyone in days and I’m sure what I was saying must sound crazy, but it was true. However, Mel did have a point. I couldn’t afford to lose my job.
“Listen,” she leaned forward and took my hands. “I don’t know who this guy is that has blown your damned mind but unless his dick is dipped in gold and he can cash that bad boy in, you need to get a grip and get back out into the world. When I told you that you needed to find a good dick to change your life I didn’t mean for you to ruin it in the process.
“All of us find that one good fuck in our lifetime. Makes your head spin. But the key is, control. You have to be in charge. You still have to live your life, girl. Make him want it,” she huffed. “Who is he anyway and how come I don’t know anything about him?”
’Cause he’s all in my head, I wanted to say, but I’m sure she would have made the call and the men in the white suits would have been at my door.
“His name is Lucas. Lucas Daniels. We met a few weeks ago,” I went on, surprising myself with my own made-up bullshit. “And one thing led to another.” I shrugged.
“So where is he now?”
“Uh, he had to go back to…L.A. That’s where he lives.”
Mel leaned back, a slow smile crept across her mouth. “I get it. He was only here for a short time so you wanted to get it while you could! Girl you should have told me. I would have understood instead of making myself crazy worrying about you. You need to talk to a sista!” She slapped my thigh.
“I’m sorry. Really. I should have told you. But…well it was all so new and exciting.”
“Well, well, well, my girl has finally found Mr. Dick. I’ll be damned. We need to celebrate.” She hopped up from her chair and hurried off to the kitchen. “I’m going to make us dinner,” she called out. “You look like you could use a meal. And you can tell me all about your new man.”
There wasn’t much to choose from in my fridge, but Mel being the cook that she is, whipped up some stir fried rice and left over chicken and from somewhere found the makings for a salad. She boiled some teabags she found in my cabinet and made iced tea. It was the first time I’d eaten a meal in a week and suddenly I was ravenous.
“Damn, take it easy. When is the last time you ate?” She peered at me, a mixture of awe and curiosity.
“I don’t remember,” I garbled over a mouthful of rice.
She shook her head. “Humph, he must be hung, that’s all I can say.” She took a delicate sip of her iced tea. “So, what’s he like, what does he do for a living?”
“He’s really nice. Works on computers in, uh, L.A.”
“He’s not married is he?”
“No.” I gobbled down some more food.
“Kids?”
“No.”
“When’s he coming back?”
“Uh, in a few weeks.”
“Good. I want to meet him.”
“I don’t know…he’s really shy.”
“Too shy to meet your best friend. Humph. I’ll fix dinner and you can bring him over. It’s settled.”
Whatever, I thought. When Mel made up her mind it was a waste of time trying to change it. I’d just deal with it when the time came. “Fine,” I eventually answered.
She looked around. “We really need to clean this place up,” she said, rising from her seat to put her plate in the sink. “And you definitely need to do something with yourself. You look a mess.”
Absently I brushed my hair with my hands. “I guess.”
“Now that Mr. Magic is gone, do you plan to come back to work on Monday?”
I nodded.
“Good.” She marched off to the living room and began straightening up. I just sat there. Tired, drained and horny as hell. I simply wanted her to leave just in case Mr. Dick made an early appearance. I forced myself to get up and help with the clean up project. The quicker I got Mel out of my apartment the better.
I went into the living room and she wasn’t there. I wandered into my bedroom and she was standing over my bed holding up the soiled sheets. She turned to me, her pert nose wrinkled in dismay.
“Girl, when was the last time you changed these funky sheets? Dayum!” She pulled them from the bed. “These will never come clean.” She stuffed the sheets into a pillowcase and tossed them in the corner then strode off to my linen closet for a clean set.
While I sat in the chair, Mel cleaned dusted and mopped. She was a regular black Martha Stewart. In no time, my apartment actually looked like someone lived there.
She turned in slow circles to observe her handiwork. “This is more like it. No man likes to come to a nasty apartment and if he does, you don’t need him.” She wagged a finger at me. “Don’t ever forget that.”
“Okay,” I muttered then yawned.
She stared at me, hands on her hips. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Fine. Just tired, that’s all.”
“I guess so. If I was screwing non-stop I would be, too.” She chuckled. “Christine Jones, who would have thought that you would get turned out.” She huffed. “Well, I gotta run. See you on Monday?”
“For sure. Thanks for everything.”
“Anything for you, Sis. I just want you to be all right and happy.” She kissed my cheek.
Any other time I would have had all manner of erotic thoughts about Mel if she’d kissed my cheek. But I could care less. I walked her to the door. “See you Monday.”
She turned to me. “Don’t ever worry me like that again, Chris. We’re friends, remember? You can tell me anything.”
“I’ll remember that.”
She walked out and I closed the door behind her.
I went to my bedroom to prepare for my nightly visit. But it didn’t come, not that night or any night for almost a week.
My next visit was that day at the office. And it didn’t just fuck me, it made love to me, bound me to it forever with sex that was so sublime as to be inexplicable. All I could think about was that I had to have it like that again, just once that’s all I asked. Just one more time. So there I was, soaking in the tub. Waiting. Hoping. Waiting and praying that it would come back and satisfy this raging need that consumed my every waking and sleeping moment.
Chapter Six
* * *
Somehow I managed to go to work everyday, although concentrating on anything was growing increasingly difficult.
I hadn’t had an incident in nearly a month and I was slowly losing whatever sanity I had left. I spent all of my free time surfing the internet looking for erotic toys, any new gadget to feed the lust that raged inside me; from vibrating panties to ten-inch rubber dicks. Nothing helped. I couldn’t cum. I didn’t even get close.
Then one day in a moment of lucidity I actually started paying attention to Mel. She looked different, worn out, something totally foreign to Mel. And when I really thought about it, she hadn’t stopped by, called or asked me to join her on a double date in weeks.
I stopped by her desk. She was staring at a stack of papers and barely noticed me.
“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
Mel glanced at me and all the fire was out of her eyes, replaced with something crazed and distant. I instinctively took a step back.
“You look…I don’t know…strange.”
She giggled. “Do I? Well I feel…incredible.”
She was a mess. Her usual expertly styled hair was thick and undone, her nails were chipped and her suit looked like she’d slept in it. And there was a strange odor wafting around her…the scent of old sex.
I flinched. My heart started to pound in my chest. “Um, what have you been up to lately? We haven’t talked much in a while,” I said, my thoughts running around like crazy.
She shrugged. “Nothing much.” She giggled again. “You know how it can be sometimes.” She started staring at the papers again, then all of a sudden she said, “I think I’ll leave early today.” She pushed up from her chair, grabbed her coat and purse from the hook and walked away without so much as a goodbye.
I stood there for a few moments, trying to put it all together in my head. I’d seen that look, I’d smelled that scent. I’d been where Mel was.
It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t.
I managed to make it through the rest of that day. But my mind was on Mel and the growing possibility of betrayal.
I went home that night and made sure that my apartment was spotless and inviting. I ran a bath and soaked in my favorite bath wash. I didn’t bother to put on any clothes when I was done bathing. I went straight to my bedroom, pulled back the sheets and got in bed, legs spread, eyes closed. I waited. Tonight it would come to me. It would come to me and put out the fire, stamp out the doubt.
But it didn’t. And with each passing day I grew more desperate, more unhinged and Mel grew more distant.
One night, weary with waiting I turned on a late night movie. It was called The Entity. I watched, transfixed as the woman was ravaged night after night by some unseen thing called a Incubus. No matter where she went it followed her, sexing her until at times she lay unconscious.
She was me. I was her. Her story was my story. For months I’d believed that what was happening to me was some depraved twisting of my mind, so desperate for sex that it had concocted the perfect dick. But it wasn’t in my mind. It was real. However, unlike the victim in the movie that wanted the pillaging of her body to end, I never wanted it to stop. Never. Ever. And in that one moment of madness I understood that the only way to get it back was to take it.
In the ensuing days I became consumed with getting my incubus back in my bed. I started doing research on the entity, searching through all the articles, photographs and victim accounts of attacks, books on demons, anything I could find in the hopes of uncovering some clue that would help me. Finally, I realized that I only had one choice.
It was bitter cold that night. The moon was full, the night still. Nothing moved on the snow-covered streets except me.
In my oversized tote I had a meat cleaver, plastic gloves and several heavy duty black garbage bags, some sponges and bleach.
My boot-covered feet crunched against the ice and snow. I smiled. Soon it would be over.
I stood in front of her house. The lights were out. I went around back and peeked in the window. Through the light of the full moon I saw her, elevated slightly above her bed—arms and legs spread eagle. Her head was tossed back, her mouth wide open. Her hips moved up and down as if by force. Her fists clenched and her teeth bared. Something unseen squeezed her breasts and she howled, the sound drifting off into the night.
To anyone else they may think that they were sleepwalking, hallucinating. But I knew better. My best friend was being fucked by my Mr. Dick. Somehow, she’d managed to steal him from me, turn him against me. Now it was Mel who was experiencing the ultimate in sexual pleasure, taken to heights most will never know. But he was mine. Mine!
For years I’d lusted after Mel, thinking that one day she would see how much I loved her. But then I found something that loved me…that made me feel complete in a way that loving Mel never could. And she took that from me. Mel, the woman who had everything—looks, personality, money, clothes, her own house and men tripping over themselves to get between her legs. She even had to have the one thing that was finally mine.
An irrational rage built inside me, clouding my vision, muddying my thoughts. There was a part of me that said what I was about to do was wrong. But the other part of me, the part that had already descended into the depths of decadence understood only one thing—revenge.
I made my way around to the side of the house. I knew she kept the side window to the kitchen cracked. I pushed the window up, tossed my tote bag inside and crawled in.
The house was totally dark, but the smell of demon sex cast a hazy glow to the rooms, leading me to them like a beacon.
Quietly, I approached her bedroom. The door was open. Through the light filtering in from the moon I saw Mel. She was on her stomach now, ass raised in position and grunting as the unseen thing thrust in and out of her pussy.
Did he do it as good to her as he did to me? Did she thrill the way I did every time that knobby, surreal cock pushed up inside her?
She cried out. A long aching wail. Whether it was in pain or pleasure I didn’t know, but something inside me snapped. I drew the cleaver out of my bag and went to work.
I took a deep breath and looked across the table at the two detectives. One was sweating profusely, totally red in the face as if he’d been in an oven. The other was standing against the wall staring at me and holding his dick as if he thought it was something I might snatch if given the chance.
The detective at the table turned off the tape recorder. He cleared his throat, took out a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.
“Is there anything else you want to add, Ms. Jones.”
I shook my head with great effort. “No,” I whispered.
He got up from the table, walked over to his friend and whispered something before they both walked out.
I sat there staring into nothingness. It was done. All I had to do now was wait.
Several moments later, two men in white jackets came into the interrogation room, followed by the officer who took my statement. The officer unlocked my handcuffs from the table. He then cuffed my hands behind my back and helped me to my feet.
“You’re going to go with these two men,” the officer said.
I nodded. That was fine.
They led me out and through the office filled with desks a
nd burly cops. Each one that I passed stopped what they were doing to look at me. I heard the whispers but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
I wanted to laugh. But then they would really think I was crazy. I wasn’t. I did what any woman would have done in my situation.
The two men put me into the back of an ambulance and we drove off.
They say I’m crazy, but I know better. So they did to me what they do to most crazy people—especially people who’ve hacked someone to death—they put them away in a safe place where they can’t harm themselves or anyone else.
But, shit, this fucking room is the pits. Padded walls, no mirrors, everything bolted down. I can’t go anywhere without an escort and they are forever shoving some kind of medication down my throat. They say it will help keep me calm, keep the delusions away.
Ha! They think I’m delusional.
I know they’re watching me, watching me through the tiny little window on my padded door. Let them, because one of these nights they are going to get the show I was telling them about.
I really shouldn’t be here. The fact of the matter is that everything I did was justified. Anybody would have done the exact same thing, given the circumstances. But of course no one understands.
Listen, if you would have asked me six months ago if I’d ever lose my head over a man, I would have laughed in your face and then kicked your ass for asking. Except that, well Lucas isn’t really a man, not like how you and I understand what a man is. He’s sex, raw, ragged, unquenchable sex. A thing with a wicked dick and a deadly tongue that did things to me that made me lose my natural mind.
Everyone has heard of a man being pussy whipped, but I was dick whipped. Still am. I’ll never get it again like he gave it to me. And the only one I have to blame is Melody. But Melody ain’t getting it no more either. That’s the only good thing that came outta this mess.