by A B Turner
“Why don’t you show me?” he asked with mock innocence.
I took his hand and placed it between my thighs, his fingers slipped easily inside me, I parted my legs, so he could feel all of me, I pulled his face to mine and we kissed, our tongues pushing, forcing their way in, when we finally separated, he glanced down where his hand was still gently pleasuring me.
“Does it feel nice?” he asked.
“It feels very nice,” I replied, trying not to drift away, he leant over and flicked his tongue across my nipple, I felt a sharp, tingling, sensation ripple, he started biting and sucking the soft flesh of one breast before seamlessly moving to the other,
“I love these,” he whispered, now pushing his fingers rhythmically into me, when I moaned slightly, he bit harder, sucked and licked more, ravenously devouring my body, although I had thought I was exhausted, an unexpected wave of heat charged through me. I grabbed his hand and pushed it further, forcing him deeper,
“You want me to fuck you, Carrie?” Jay asked breathlessly.
“Please, Jay, please,” I gasped desperately.
He clambered on to me rammed himself inside, before furiously pumping into me, we were now completely out of control, biting, scratching and ravaging each other like crazed animals, in an explosion of raw passion we came, both dripping in sweat. We collapsed back on to the bed, neither of us able to speak or move, other than to slip under the bed sheets ,both completely drained.
It was early the next morning, I awoke to find myself alone, still covered by the tangled sheets from the night before. I lay motionless for several minutes, trying to make some sense of it all, as I thought, I suddenly became aware every inch of my skin felt sore almost raw, so still wrapped in a sheet, I wearily stood up and wandered over to the mirror. I dropped the sheet and was horrified by my own distorted reflection, my chest was a mass of scratch marks, there were small purplish bruises across my neck and shoulders. I gazed down, only to see more bruising and claw-like scrapes across my thighs, enhanced with thin trails of congealed blood oozing from them. I turned slightly, allowing myself to see my back, there were long, angry-looking scratches running across both shoulder blades and down my spine, it was as if I had been attacked by some wild animal. I hastily grabbed my bathrobe and pulled it around my ravaged body before making my way quickly to shower, with some misguided notion I might be able to make this look better if I washed. As the hot water hit the open scars, it felt scalding, desperately trying to ignore the pain, I gently rubbed some tea tree oil into the worst of the wounds, hoping to eliminate the possibility of infection. Having dealt with my skin, I gently began massaging the area between my embattled thighs, here too, my touch caused only considerable discomfort, however careful I was, I still felt as if some obscenely-large blunt instrument had been forced inside me. I gave up trying to alleviate the pain and just stood in the shower, allowing the steaming water to cascade over me, like warm, summer rain, eventually, the water started to make me feel slightly better and it was with some reluctance, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a large, soft towel. I wandered back into my bedroom, as before, one glance at the spattered bedclothes, illustrated the level of violence enacted on them the previous night. I ripped them off the bed and quickly replaced them with fresh, white sheets, after making the bed, I stepped back to survey my handiwork and was slightly relieved, at least it looked, more normal. After collecting up my discarded clothes, which I quickly stuffed into the laundry hamper, I went into the living-room and slumped down on the sofa, with the vague idea I could somehow make some sense of what had happened.
At first, I thought back to Daniel, it had been difficult but, ultimately, I was sure I had done the right thing, there was no question, he probably was hurt now, but it would only be a matter of time, before he met someone else. After all, that was why I had broken up with him before, I had known on some level, it would never work between us and last night, well, that thought had been confirmed. Having reconciled one part of my evening, I was forced to look at the rest, I’d felt alone and called Jay, unlike Daniel, there was no emotional baggage between us, it had just been sex, two adults enjoying each other, nothing more, I had done the same thing several times in my life, but, then again, this was different. There was something about him, which made me abandon all my well-trusted defences, leaving me with nothing more than a raw, basic emotion which raged through me like a fire. Once in the grip of this feeling, I had no way of stopping, or even just slowing down, I was completely out of control and although the pleasure was all-consuming, the simple fact was, I couldn’t handle it. After allowing myself the freedom to be swept along by the breath-taking surge of pure lust, I was left with an equally strong, almost intense ,unease, how could Jay, a man I barely knew, unlock this in me? Reach this dark, hidden place and expose it, revelling in its wild recklessness. I shivered, pulling the towel ever-closer around my damp shoulders, I suddenly remembered I was due at work and glanced up at the clock, thankfully, it was still early, but I opted to leave the sofa and begin to get ready anyway. I wanted to do something normal, just simple and mundane, put on my uniform, go to work and just sit at my desk for several dull, ordinary hours, where thinking wasn’t encouraged, in fact, it was generally frowned upon.
An hour or so later, I was on my way, opting to walk, hoping the fresh air might help clear my head, by the time I reached the doors, I had resolved to make an appointment with Charlotte as soon as possible. Fortunately, when I called, I was told I could go later that day, I readily accepted, even though I knew it would mean leaving work early, I walked in, concocting a plausible excuse for the manager, quickly deciding on mentioning ‘womens problems’, as I knew he would blush and readily agree to my request, in the hope, this would ensure I wouldn't say anything else.
As I had hoped, Brian raised no objection and I wandered to my desk feeling slightly better, completely sure, talking about the whole thing with Charlotte would help, after all, I was due to see Vanessa at the weekend and I wanted nothing to spoil our reunion. I thought about her for the rest of the morning, wondering what we would talk about, and, more importantly, why she had been so anxious to see me again. At lunchtime, I was reluctant to go to the canteen, not wanting to cause Daniel any more discomfort, as I hovered by the door, two ladies came out gossiping loudly, making it possible for me to eaves-drop on their conversation,
“I thought Daniel was going to be in today,Dolly? ”said one, “Any idea what’s happened with him?”
“Seems, Jean, he rang in this morning, saying there was a family emergency and he’d be off for at least a couple of weeks,” replied Dolly.
“ Really? I didn’t know he had any family to speak of ..?”queried Jean. Dolly glanced around furtively, but somehow managed to miss seeing me,
“He hasn’t, Cheryl told me, there’s a woman involved, she got that from Pauline and you know what she’s like...” she paused,
“More up with everything than bloody News at Ten!" finished the other, “But who’s the woman?”
“I don’t know , no-one here though, if it was, Pauline would be spreading it round like butter on a bun,” replied Dolly firmly. Suddenly she glanced up and saw me standing by the notice board, attempting to look engrossed in the weekly sales report,
“Alright,Carrie? ” she said, I turned, trying to look startled,
“Oh hello ladies,” I replied cheerily, “Just checking on the figures.”
They exchanged doubtful glances, before saying goodbye and hastily heading for the locker room, still talking, but now with more hushed tones. I walked into the canteen, thankfully, as I was slightly later than usual, Phil and his mates had left, there were only a handful of people dotted at various tables, most engrossed in their newspaper or texting frantically on their phone. No-one even looked up as I grabbed a sandwich and Coke, before heading over to my favourite table in the corner, on my way , I glanced at a discarded newspaper lying abandoned on the central table. As usual, it had been left open, showin
g a picture of a topless, young woman, she looked around the same age as Lainie, when this realisation hit me, I suddenly felt a faintly-ridiculous urge to cover her, so I flipped the paper over only to be confronted by a banner headline,
“VANESSA BONART : LUCKY TO BE ALIVE!”
I stared blankly at the words, trying to somehow make my brain take in, what my eyes were reading, when the momentary paralysis subsided, still clutching my lunch, I grabbed the paper and half-ran to my table. After almost falling into my seat, I took a deep breath and began to read, it seemed Ryan and Vanessa had been on his motorbike and had, for some unknown reason, spun off the road at high speed and landed in a ditch. Fortunately, a passing motorist stopped and, on seeing the state of the two casualties, called the emergency services right away, as I tried to digest the words, my mind was spinning with the same desperate plea,
“Please God let her be alright.”
As I read on, they had been taken to hospital, he had a broken leg, arm and cuts to his face, she had sustained a severe wound to her body, believed to have been caused by a tree branch, both were described by doctors as ‘comfortable and in no immediate danger’ and ‘were expected to make a full recovery.’ I sighed with relief, so audibly, the others in the canteen glanced across at me briefly, before returning to their own thoughts. The rest of the article was
mainly the words of various passers-by and the attending police officer, who was investigating the cause of the accident and so was ‘unable to give any details at this time.’ I sat back and attempted to open my sandwich, my hands were shaking uncontrollably which made, making any kind of impression on the cellophane, almost impossible, so I quickly abandoned it and forced open the Coke instead. For a brief moment, I thought about trying to contact Marcella, after all, I probably still had her number on my phone somewhere, but I quickly dismissed this notion, aside from the fact she would be swamped with media attention, she had asked me to be careful when she hinted about others listening into conversations. I resolved to watch the news carefully over the next few days instead, I tossed my uneaten sandwich into the bin and left the canteen to return to my desk.
I was so lost in thought, I nearly forgot about my appointment with Charlotte, until Brian came over and reminded me of the time. As I left work, my problems seemed very insignificant compared to the news about Vanessa, I was even tempted to phone and cancel, but I knew that would be a mistake. I reassured myself with the fact, she was undoubtedly in safe hands and there was nothing I could do to help, so I jumped on the first bus and headed for the counselling centre.
By the time I arrived, I had somehow managed to put the accident to the back of my mind and focus on my own issues, as I was early, I dashed into the ladies room to freshen up, one glance at my bruised neck acted as a stark reminder as to why I was here. After quickly brushing my hair, I returned to the waiting room and sat down, luckily, the magazines arranged carefully on the table were all about interior design, so no mention of celebrity news. I idly flicked through one, glossy pages filled with large photographs of lavish homes set in rolling countryside, a lifestyle, so far removed from my own, these houses could have been on another planet. I started to read about a couple who had bought a disused mill and renovated the whole structure themselves, spending months squashed in a small caravan with two young children, while they painstakingly rebuilt the place. At first, I was convinced they must have been mad, living in such cramped conditions,especially through the winter, but when I looked at the final picture, there they were, happily ensconced in a beautiful home, swearing all the hardships had been worth it. I slowly closed the magazine, filled with admiration for them and feeling slightly guilty about my original query over their sanity. I glanced up at the mantle clock, I had been waiting for almost half an hour, just as I wondered whether I should approach the receptionist to see if she has forgotten me, Charlotte appeared in the doorway, she looked slightly breathless,
“So sorry to have kept you waiting, I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said apologetically.
“There’s no rush,” I replied, she smiled at my response and disappeared again, leaving me to collect myself, I wanted to have some idea of what to say when I was in Charlotte’s office, otherwise I would waste the time, rambling on and making no sense at all, although I was more than aware, however hard I tried, sense may well prove elusive.
After ten more minutes, Charlotte appeared again and led me to her office, explaining as we walked, a client had run into a few problems which needed slightly more time than she had initially allotted, but now, as I was the last one of the day, she assured me I would have her full attention. Once settled in the armchairs, our session began with me attempting to explain why I had felt the need to see her at such short notice, despite my earlier efforts to organise my thoughts, everything I said sounded faintly ridiculous, jumbled and with no real meaning. After several agonisingly embarrassing moments, I slumped back in my chair, feeling defeated,
“I don’t know what I’m trying to say, everything’s so out of control.”
For a moment, there was silence between us, before I heard Charlotte sigh,
“ Carrie,instead of trying to deal with everything at once, why don’t we work through each part of the story slowly, piece by piece, shall we try?” she began, when I nodded, she asked whether I felt my evening with Daniel had ended as I would have hoped,
“Yes,” I replied, without hesitation, “We both know where we stand now.”
Charlotte smiled,
“You see? There’s one issue you have resolved successfully.”
I had to concede, she was right,
“But what about Jay?” I persisted, I opened the top of my uniform revealing the bruising, despite herself, she was unable to stop a slight wince at the sight before her, “This isn’t normal,” I added despairingly, in the brief moment it took me to re-button my top, Charlotte had regained her composure,
“For some that is quite normal, I can assure you,” she replied calmly, “ As we mentioned during our last meeting,many people enjoy a level of controlled violence during sex, for them it heightens the pleasure of the whole experience.”
“But I hate violence,” I quickly retorted, but when I heard myself, sounding so like a whiny child, if I had stamped my foot, it would have been in character, I quickly apologised, as before, Charlotte patiently reminded me such apologies were unnecessary. Once more, we sat in silence, I was just on the point of suggesting we give up completely, when Charlotte tossed her notebook on to the desk and leant forward towards me,
“Carrie, can I speak plainly?” she asked.
“Of course,” I answered, slightly anxious about what she was
going to say.
“You talk a great deal about needing to be in control, would you agree?”
I nodded.
“Is it possible, when you are with Jay, the very fact you feel so, abandoned, with him, is, in itself, a kind of control?” she looked at me, but on seeing my bemused expression, she obviously realised, this idea was going to take a little more explanation.
“You have chosen to be with someone who you know, wants nothing from you ,who seemingly has no desire for any kind of emotional connection, it’s purely physical, would that be an accurate description?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered hesitantly.
“So it follows, that is maybe what you want, for some yet unknown reason, the prospect of allowing yourself to love someone, is so terrifying, you have, with him, consciously chosen the very opposite.”
For a split second, I wanted to argue with every word she had said, but instead, I sat back in the armchair and tried to digest her suggestion, meanwhile, she reached forward for her glass of water, before resting back in her chair. I looked at her, there was no hint of triumph in her face, or, indeed, even the remotest sign, she believed she had solved my problem , in fact, it seemed she was slightly unsure by her own words. After a few awkward moments, I shifted in my chair, my sudden movemen
t caused her to lean forward again, clearly hoping I was going to say something relevant, but I just had another question,
“But what about Vanessa ? I know..I mean.. I can feel it's love with her.."
“You met her when you felt lost, feeling you were worth very little, so when she saw something beautiful in you, well, it isn’t difficult to see what happened, especially, as I remember reading, you went on to help her through a difficult time,” she paused, as if contemplating the wisdom of her next question,
“Carrie, perhaps this love you share with her..have you considered that's only possible for you, because a full time relationship with her, by your own admission, is impossible?"
Even though I knew what she said was true, to hear those words, said out loud caused me to obviously flinch, Charlotte saw this and leant forward,
"Carrie, I hope I haven't hurt your feelings."
I shook my head,
"I would not be doing my job, if I didn't ask questions, especially the difficult ones..." Her voice trailed off, her concerned eyes searching my face for some hint I had understood her motives. After a few awkward moments, I sighed heavily,
"Maybe you're right, maybe it is easier to love someone, I can't have..maybe I am scared, but when I am with her, Charlotte, it's like nothing I've ever known before..yes, it's intense, but not like Jay..it's..I don't know..deeper somehow."
It was now my turn to look to her for answers, she sat back again in her chair, clearly deep in thought,
" Carrie, bearing in mind how very young you were when you married, and obviously the destructive nature of that union, I think maybe your relationship with her, might have been almost your first love, and as anyone can assure you, sometimes nothing that follows ever really reaches the same intensity.”
I felt the sting of tears in my eyes which, at first, I tried to blink back, but they determinedly trickled down my cheeks, despite my efforts.