Lies In Rewind

by Tali Alexander

  He moves my hair to the side and kisses my exposed neck. His touch feels right as he lowers my dress strap and kisses my shoulder. I can feel him tracing my freckles first with his fingers and then with his tongue. I lower my head back and let out my first moan at the feel of having him with me. He releases a deep groan, pulling me flush against his chest as I mold my body to his. I can feel his erection straining as he slowly starts moving up and down into me. We’re both undulating and breathing hard as our bodies gain traction. He pulls up my dress and slides his hand past my panties right into my crotch. He stops gyrating as he slowly slips his middle finger inside me. It feels like heaven and I don’t want to think of the consequences or the guilt, but just of how good his touch is. I’m dripping as he pumps his wet finger into me slowly.

  “I can do this all day,” he chokes out into my neck. “You, only you, baby.”

  My eyes are closed and my body begins to melt into his. When he touches me, everything in the world is right again. I would never let or want anyone but him to touch me like this. I’m petrified that if I let someone else touch me—this, him, us, will just disappear and cease to exist.

  He withdraws his drenched finger from between my folds and brings it up and starts massaging my clit. It’s slow and lazy at first, but as my breathing becomes notched and my muscles begin to tense, Jeff recognizes how close I am to seeing stars and begins rubbing my clit at a rapid pace. He knows after not seeing me for a whole day, he won’t last long once he finally penetrates me. He wants me on the verge and ready to go, and I am, I’m close…I want him to stop teasing me with his hands and make me his the only way he can, even if it’s a momentary illusion.

  He’s still fully dressed, as am I. My thousand-dollar dress is a heap of fabric around my waist; my panties are pulled to the side like a two-dollar whore’s. Liars and cheaters like us don’t always have the luxury of undressing and taking our time. I know I get him for a couple of hours before I have to give him back and turn into somebody he didn’t choose.

  “I’m close, don’t stop.” I yell out, knowing he’s aware of when I’m about to come before me. He knows my body better than I do, and I only know his body and no one else’s. I feel him unbuttoning his pants. He pulls his underwear down to grab his cock and enters me quickly before he has his usual sobering reaction.

  “Fuck, I forgot the rubber. Hold on!” He fishes in his pants, now around his knees, for the condom he replenishes daily and resumes his position. I’m used to this move, I sometimes believe he just wants to feel me barebacked for a few seconds before the harsh reality of making sure I never get pregnant sobers him up.

  “Get out of your head, Sara. I want you in the moment with me, okay?”

  I smile and sadly think what I wouldn’t give to be with him for millions of moments. Why can’t it be easy for us? “I’m right here, JJ, nowhere else,” I say reassuringly to the love of my life and offer him my lips. I can see him smile as he lowers himself to kiss me. His lips and my lips fit perfectly together. He and I have a rhythm to our kissing that’s hypnotizing. I love the taste of him, all of him. He playfully sucks my tongue before sinking lower to my breasts. He flickers his tongue until my nipple is as hard as his cock and my whole body is covered in goose bumps. When he hears me start to beg for him to stop, only then does he finally take my whole nipple in and suck it like a pro.

  He unlatches and looks up at me. “I need to be inside you. I’ve been going crazy trying to find you all day. Please don’t keep me away and don’t ever ask me to go. You know what you are to me.”

  I’m nothing, I chime in my brain.

  I run my hands into his soft, wavy hair, outlining with my thumbs his thick eyebrows before nodding and saying, “No more talking, I just want you to love me one more night. I won’t ask you to go or stay anymore, I promise.” He’s suspended above me and since his dick is as stiff as a rock, I doubt he understands anything I’m saying to him at this moment. He doesn’t have enough blood in his brain to recognize that this is goodbye. Tomorrow morning, I won’t see him off to work. Tomorrow, I’ll be gone and all the hurt and lies will finally stop. I take hold of his dick and help guide him toward my aching pussy. Tonight, we fuck, and tomorrow, I pay the piper.

  “Fuck, I’m coming, Sara…I’m not gonna last…oh, I’m fucking coming.” I’ve decided that tonight I won’t let him make me come, because I don’t want to remember this night at all. I won’t visit today in my mind and think of how he made me orgasm for the last time. This night doesn’t deserve to be remembered. My tears are running down my face again, but these are silent, calm tears. These are goodbye tears. “Oh, I love you, baby. Don’t ever question that. What you and I have doesn’t go away. Nothing would make me stop loving you.” He’s still inside me as I try to stay awake. I’m not sure if he actually said that or if it’s already part of my dream. He’ll probably fuck me again before he goes home, I think, lingering on the verge of sleep, but I have this feeling that I’ve forgotten something. Did I lock the door? It’s okay, I’m sure Jeff will lock it when he leaves.

  I wake up in the morning and I’m in bed alone. Jeffery is gone, back home to have breakfast with his real family as he always does. The family I can only dream of, the family that reminds me of what I’ll never have. Karma, I’ve met her, she knows me well and she hates me. I lay on my side, looking out the window at the sunrise over the city that I both love and hate. I still have my dress wrapped around my waist and I feel alone and dirty.

  The realization that I forgot and missed my meeting with Will Knight hits me like a car crash. Fuck! Jeff—the real Jeff—must’ve taken the key I left for Will, which means he obviously had no way of gaining access to the suite without that fucking key. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I botched everything up. I need to go find my phone and see if Will texted me. I hear a stirring in my room and see movement in the corner of my eye. I look over the edge of the bed to spot someone curled up in a ball on a small loveseat by the wall. My heart clenches in fear, as I know by the clothing and hair color it’s not Jeff. It can’t be Will! He had no way of getting in. I try to stay calm and rationalize my situation, but I can’t. I’m scared. The terror begins to quickly spread across my body and gags me into silence. I open my mouth but no sound comes out. I’m paralyzed with fear as my brain tries and fails to convince me that I’m not gonna die. I need to run before it’s too late. Oh my God, who the fuck is in my room?

  The voices inside my head scream for me to do something. My nonexistent self-preservation mode suddenly kicks in as I slowly try to move off the bed without making any noise and quietly get the fuck out of this room and call security. Who is this predator? What if he wakes up and tries to kill me? Why hasn’t he killed or raped me yet? What was he waiting for? The nonstop questions collide and blur in my head as I struggle to glide out soundlessly. I haven’t looked away from him while I attempt to find footing. As luck would have it, I step directly on my discarded heels and stumble off the bed, making a racket. I close my eyes knowing that it’s all over. I fucked up and I’m about to confront my subjugator and have my self-destruction prophecy fulfilled earlier than originally anticipated.

  “Look Away” by Chicago

  I reckon I won’t go up to meet Emily exactly at ten. I will go up to her suite around quarter past ten; this way I don’t seem like an eager eejit, which I really am. It’s almost time to go up as I walk over to the smiling, dark-haired receptionist that I’ve seen once or twice before. Time to lay on the charm.

  “Good evening, my name is Jeffery Rossi, my mate is occupying the penthouse and was to leave instructions on granting me access to the suite,” I nervously say as the thought of them asking for my ID pops in my head. The prospect of seeing her again finally feels close enough to taste, the last thing I need is for our meeting to go tits up because I can’t show proper documentation for this Jeffery fella.

  The woman is looking at me funny. She gets up and walks over to a short bald man standing at the far right of the chec
k-in counter. They’re chatting and looking my way. Bollocks! I don’t want any issues. I just need to see Emily for the love of God. It bloody feels like I need to jump through hoops of fire to see her again.

  I spy the receptionist returning with less of a smile on her face. All I can think is that I bloody must charm this woman into forgetting to ask me to show any valid form of identification. I smile my fake “I like you” smile and try to telepathically convince her that I am indeed Jeffery Rossi. She smiles warmly at me and says, “Sorry, sir, I just had to check with my manager since it states in our system that we’ve already given you the key earlier tonight. We’ve also had your ID checked and placed on file. Have you misplaced your key?”

  I have no clue what this dimwit is talking about. I try to give off an air of confidence as I nod before saying, “Yes, I may have misplaced the bloody thing.” Oh, God why is it so hard for me to see you, Emily?

  “Not a problem, Mr. Rossi. We have an extra key that we can use to let you up. Or we can just call your friend to let her know you’re coming.”

  “Yes, if I could borrow your key, I’ll be certain to bring both keys back. I wouldn’t want you disturbing my friend this late; she may be sleeping already.” I say as calmly as I can. Sweetheart, please go get me the bloody key without attracting too much attention or alerting that manager who escorted me out this morning and let me see the woman that has been dancing naked in my mind for weeks. My facial features are starting to hurt from the ridiculous smile I’ve been wearing.

  “Right away, sir,” she answers as she walks away, hopefully fetching me a key. Whose ID do they have on file and who has access to Emily’s suite? I start to ponder and worry as the thought of someone else going up to see Emily makes me slightly uneasy. I’m still, however, smiling as I finally thank the woman at the counter, grab the key before somebody changes his or her fucking mind or starts asking me more questions, and run with it.

  As soon as the doors to the elevator finally shut I let out a breath and hope for the love of anything holy that Emily is waiting for me upstairs and will listen to me. I pray she won’t be cross with me for not telling her who I was and just how well I know her and her cheating husband.

  The elevator stops moving as the attendant welcomes me to the forty-first floor. The lights come on as soon as I step into the foyer and I make my way to the mirrored doors ahead of me, key in hand. Once I easily unlock the entrance I take a deep breath before walking through those doors, knowing that she’s on the other side waiting for me. I enter a huge room that feels more like a ballroom than a living room in a hotel suite. I look around and it seems quiet. This place is extravagant, beautiful, and probably the nicest piece of real estate in all of Manhattan. This little residence must cost a bomb, nothing but the best in Louis’ world. I walk a few more steps inside and still I don’t see or hear anybody. Odd. I want to call out her name, but I first need to assess the situation I’m in before I start beckoning her to me. I decide that the best thing for me to do is sit on one of the many chesterfields like a good lad and wait for her to show herself. Maybe she’s changing, I think as I look toward the monstrous staircase leading to a well-lit second floor. Maybe she’s showering for me; the notion makes my lips curve and my knob twitch. Maybe she does remember how good I made her feel that night and that’s why she wanted to finally see me. My heart accelerates as I get myself even more excited. Her stupid husband probably doesn’t know how to make her moan or give her any pleasure, but he sure knows how to give her pain. I walk over and choose a couch and situate myself facing the staircase. I’ve had a nutty day today, starting with Louis and now ending with Emily. I look at my watch and it’s half past ten. I hope she doesn’t keep me waiting for too long.

  I open my eyes and I’m in total darkness. It takes me a minute or so to realize that I’m still at The Pierre and I dozed off waiting for Emily. I look at my phone before I get up and realize it’s well past midnight. She never came down! I check my messages, she never called or texted, either. Maybe something happened! Louis probably found out and locked her up at home. Or maybe she’s upstairs and also fell asleep waiting for me.

  I decide to go up. I walk quietly up the massive stone stairs and make a right into a dark hallway lined with doors on one side. One of the doors to the left is completely open and I reckon to start looking for her there.

  The bedroom is dark but I can still make out its palatial size with huge windows overlooking New York City giving off a bit of light. I suddenly hear sounds and see movement on the bed. I step to the side of the door to make sure nobody sees me. My eyes adjust to the dark and I start to make out two people in bed probably fucking by the sounds they’re making. My heart stops beating once my stupid brain receives the message of what’s actually going on and what I just walked in on.

  It takes me less than a minute to feel like an unwelcomed intruder. I’m hurt and confused. I’m all out of sorts to even begin to fathom anything going on with my life lately. Why would she ask me to come meet her? She wanted to humiliate me! She wanted me to walk in on her and Louis fucking! Maybe it wasn’t even her texting me, it was him! It just dawned on me that on the same day he comes to see me I finally get a text from her, the woman I’ve been waiting for over a month to form any bloody communication with decided to reach out to me today of all days.

  I close my eyes as the need to scream and hurt someone slowly chokes me. I should get out of here and not give him the satisfaction of knowing I saw him sleeping with my Emily. I start to walk away slowly as Louis groans out his release and shifts off of Emily. I should go, I should run, but I’m paralyzed with disbelief like a bystander in a car that’s caught on the tracks, watching a train approach, knowing he’s about to be wrecked. It’s over, I lost, and yet I’m still standing, waiting to see her one more time. I think I see her face in the light illuminating from the window. I try to make out her features in this darkness, features that I’ve spent the last month tracing and stroking in my dreams.

  I can’t move, I’m transfixed as I finally see her lying in bed. I’m so dazed and confused I don’t even know my own name, but I most definitely know that this girl lying in bed is not my Emily. She looks familiar and it takes me a few seconds to recognize her from the pub earlier. This was the fit bird I rescued from those two blokes. Why is she in Emily’s room? Why is she in bed with Louis? Louis starts moving as I instinctively move and hide myself in the dark, open closet. I need to find out what in bloody hell this rubbish is all about, because everything in my mind is spinning out of control.

  I move to stand behind the closet door as I see movement. Louis gets up off the bed and a few minutes later, leaves. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as millions of scenarios flood my brain. That pretty girl at the pub said she was meeting someone; it must’ve been Louis. She was meeting him and they naturally fucked because he’s an animal and bangs everything that moves. I hear the sound of the elevator arrive and then the doors close, which means he left. I slowly walk out of my hiding quarters and back into the dark colossal room. I bravely get close to the bed just to make sure that the woman lying there is in fact not my Emily. I edge closer as I ensure for certain it’s the American girl from before. She’s half naked with her tits out and her dress around her waist. She stirs and moves her head towards me. I notice her closed eyes and the marred black mascara on her cheeks. She was crying! Of course she was crying, Louis makes every woman cry, it’s his signature touch, I reflect with disgust. I hope he didn’t hurt her.

  I move away from the bed and decide to stay here until morning to talk to this poor girl, because I need answers. I’ll make sure she’s okay and perhaps warn her off Louis fucking Bruel, too. It would actually work quite nicely in my favor if Louis chose his mistress over Emily, but I truthfully wouldn’t wish him on bloody anybody, not even a whore.

  I sit on a chair by the closet for a bit, watching this strange girl. She’s moving about quite a bit in her sleep and making pained sounds every once in a whi
le. This day has been increasingly tiring and I’m buggered, my eyes slowly close, and my head falls to my chest as the jolt wakes me. I spy a comfy-looking tufted divan and move my confused, tired arse to let my head rest for a few while I wait for this poor girl to wake up.

  “Welcome To The Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses

  I wake up with a shudder to a crashing sound. I look over at the bed and she’s not there. I spring up and see her body tangled on the floor and it looks like she’s trembling. I hope she’s not drunk or high. I need her capable of answering questions. I take a few steps towards her with my heart lodged in my throat.

  “Please don’t hurt me!” she cries out. “Just take what you want, just take it all and go,” she cries as I kneel down beside her, confused, and try to help her up. She’s rocking and sobbing. I take hold of her arms to help lift her back into bed and our eyes connect. Hers are so expressive; I register fear, shock, relief, and then anger in them.

  “Get your filthy hands off of me. It’s you! You! From…from the bar? What the fuck are you doing in my room? Who let you in here?” She’s getting herself all worked up as she covers her breasts by pulling her dress back on and struggling to get as far away from me as possible, situating herself on the other side of the massive, four-poster bed. I still have not uttered a word. I just look at her and aim to work out how to handle her.

  “I’m Jeffery Rossi,” I say as her eyes enlarge in shock and her hand flies to her open mouth.

  “You’re Will Knight?” she asks and once again, I’m as baffled as ever.