by Whitney D.
“Do you want to have children?”
With Matt I wasn't really ready to be a mother, but because of his age, I almost felt obligated. Sad, I know. But with Sebastian, something was different. I knew he wanted kids because he'd told me, but if I said something along the lines of I'm not sure would it scare him away? It was the truth. Although I wasn't entirely opposed to the idea – be it that we could even find a way for me to have a baby if it ever came to that.
“Maybe.”
“I can work with maybe.”
“But, I can't even have kids, Sebastian.”
“We'll worry about that when the time comes.”
It was as if he'd read my mind, setting me totally at ease because I knew this topic would come up and I couldn't have hoped it would've gone any better than it did.
Smiling, he squeezed my hands and leaned in, planting the faintest of kisses along my eager lips.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
I rolled my eyes at him, “Always were one to get the last word in,” I teased.
That night I admitted to myself that this was right, it was fate, it was nothing short of perfection. I slept in his bed and he snored. He drooled on his pillow and we woke up in the morning in a tangle of limbs. It felt normal like we'd been together all this time and nothing had changed... like we'd never spent a day apart.
19
The birds chirping outside woke me again sometime after Sebastian had slipped out of bed.
“Baby?”
“Too early... let me sleep,” I groaned.
“Babe, it's nearly eleven.”
I sprang up, “What?”
Sebastian laughed as he offered a steaming cup of coffee to me. He was shirtless wearing blue and green plaid flannel sleep pants. As I reached for the mug, my fingers drifted past it to touch his broad chest that was tanned and toned.
With his arm still extended, I saw some ink peeking out from the underside of his left bicep that I hadn't noticed before.
I dusted the tips of my fingers along his chest as it rose and fell. Nearing his left side, I ran my finger towards his bicep, “What's this?” I had just barely touched his arm when he moved the coffee from his left hand to his right hand, dropping his arm to his side, and concealing the permanent brand on his perfect skin.
“Nothing.”
“Let me see... what is it?”
“Do you have any?”
“Tattoos? No. But I went through this crazy phase in college where I had some piercings....” dragging on, I raised a brow in insinuation that he could use his imagination to figure out what parts of my body that those pieces of metal had been shoved through.
“Really?” his tone was tattered with shock.
“Yes.”
“Tell me... which of your lady parts were pierced, Em?”
“Tell me about your tattoo.”
“No,” he scooted off the bed and left the room without another word, setting the coffee on the dresser next to the door as he made his exit.
This side of Sebastian – the one that had me completely dumbfounded – was new and I really didn't like it.
I may be grasping at straws here, but I was getting to the bottom of that fucking tattoo – what it was and what it meant.
Tossing the covers off of me, my skin chilled and prickled with goosebumps immediately. I made my way down stairs to see Sebastian sitting casually in the living room with his arm draped along the back of the sofa as he watched the news on TV.
Plopping down next to him, I pulled my sass and sexy side out, knowing it would probably work. I ran my hand up his plaid covered thigh, tracing little circles along the way.
He ignored it at first. But oh... Sebastian. He had no idea that I always win at hard to get.
As my hand neared his groin, he grabbed my wrist tightly holding it out in front of me.
“What are you doing?”
“Ow that hurts.”
“You have no idea.”
I tugged my arm trying to free myself from his hold, “Well you said you'd show me.”
Releasing me from his grasp, he leaned into me settling just inches from my face, “You want me to show you now?”
“Do I get some ridiculous safe word or something? I mean will it even come to that?”
“It will and no you don't,” he whispered.
Drinking in his shifty behavior and the darkness that poured from his eyes as he looked at me, I grew a little apprehensive.
“Did Cassidy let you do this to her?”
“I'd rather we didn't talk about her, but no. She didn't get that side of me.”
“And why do I?”
“It will be the most erotic thing you've ever experienced. She wasn't deserving of that kind of pleasure. In all honesty, she probably would've been too wasted to even realize....” he trailed on.
My chest tightened as I began to panic, air refusing to fill my lungs.
Seconds later, he turned me face down with my pelvis splayed out across his lap.
“Sebastian?”
I wiggled and tried to turn back to look at him.
“Stay still, you said you wanted it.”
His hands lifted my waist a bit before moving to pull my pajama pants down along with my already dampened panties. He slid them down slowly, leaving them scrunched around my knees. One large palm kneaded my right ass cheek as he brought his other hand to his mouth. He sucked on one finger briefly before slipping it into my puckered ass. I moaned in satisfaction as he started fucking my ass slowly with his pointed finger.
“Dirty slut.”
I whimpered in response as he shifted his pelvis up, lifting me while he reached into his pocket.
Turning my head to look back at him, he glared at me, “Eyes forward, slut.”
Immediately I turned my head back and when he found what was hidden in his pocket, he settled back into the sofa.
Inserting a second finger into me, he stretched me further. He thrusted his fingers a few times before withdrawing them. Moments later I felt something firm and cold press against my ass.
“Sebastian?”
He didn't acknowledge me, instead he pressed the cold metal object into me - filling me and stretching me.
“Fucking beautiful.”
He scooted himself out from under me, leaving me face down on the sofa.
I turned my head a bit to see him reach for a brown leather belt that had been laid on the coffee table.
“I'm going to hit you with this and it's going to hurt, a lot. Then, as the pain subsides, I'm going to fuck you.”
He wrapped the dangling ends of the belt around his fist as adrenaline flooded my veins.
“Tell me now if you don't want to do this. Once it starts, I won't stop.”
I hesitated, this kind of kink was unlike what I'd expected.
“Tell me you want me to do it, Emery.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as I sealed the deal, “Do it.”
“Rub your pussy.”
I trailed my fingers down between my legs, rubbing my little ball of nerves.
“Keep fingering yourself as I hit you. Don't stop.”
Without warning, the belt cracked as it seared into my skin. My eyes instantly filled with tears at the pain.
He hit me twice more, the belt hammering the plug into my ass with each lash. I didn't tell him to stop, I didn't beg for mercy, I just let him have his way with me.
By the final lash, I could barely breathe and I was relieved when I heard the belt fall from his hand to the floor. He grasped my waist, lifting me to my knees.
I knew he wanted me to face him, but I kept my head turned to the side, not wanting him to see my dampened cheeks
“Your ass is cherry. Fucking beautiful.”
He sat on the couch and looked up at me, “Baby, are you crying?”
“No.”
He laid back, settling himself into the couch. As his hand cupped his cock that was firmly tenting his
pants, “See what you've done to me? My dick is throbbing for you.”
I smile as I look down at his straining cock.
“Straddle my face.”
I crawled down to him and stilled myself inches above his mouth. His hands grasped my ass, massaging it for a few moments before the fingers from his right hand pressed against the plug.
With both hands, he tugged me down onto his mouth. He licked and sucked, and fingered me, nearly bringing me to orgasm in under five minutes.
When he could tell I was close to coming, he pulled his mouth from my pussy and slid out from under me. After he slipped his pants off, he quickly turned me to face the back of the sofa. Spreading the flat of his hand across my lower back, he nudged me, bending me in a ninety-degree angle before slamming his cock into my soaking wet pussy. With each rock of his hips, his body tapped the plug, causing every nerve in my body to shutter.
With his cock still inside of me, he turned into a sitting position on the couch with me in his lap. He lifted me up and then down again several times as he fucked himself with my body.
“Touch yourself. Make yourself come. I'm so fucking close, Em. Oh my God. Fuck, your pussy feels so good.”
My legs were spread wide open when my fingers danced between them, rubbing furiously to bring me to orgasm at the exact same moment he found his own release. I felt his dick stir as he unloaded his seed into me.
As we caught our breath, I stood. His eyes settled on the large clear crystal that held the butt plug in place. When his come began to drip down my legs, I heard his breath catch and I smiled before turning around.
I leaned forward and kissed him before making my way to the bathroom to remove the plug and clean myself.
After freshening up, I returned to the living room to find Sebastian partially clothed and waiting for me.
As I sat down to his right, I looked over at him, “So. The tattoo?”
Something made me think that because I gave him what he wanted, that maybe he'd tell me what I wanted to know.
“Want to go out to dinner tonight?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Don't change the subject.”
“I'm not.”
“Yes you are. Don't make me tickle you. I know all the good spots.”
“Tickle me?”
“The tattoo. What's the big deal about it?”
“What?”
“The tattoo on the underside of your arm. Does it say something totally embarrassing like penis is the spice of life?”
“Penis is the spice of life?... Really?” he raised a brow, “Um no.”
“Then what is it?”
“Just drop it.”
“Whatever.”
I pressed my feet to the carpet, standing, and turning on my heels before storming out the room towards the kitchen. Sebastian followed closely behind me, but didn't say anything right away.
Yanking the fridge open, I grabbed a pitcher with orange juice in it and pulled a cup from a shelf in the cabinet next to the sink. I had poured half a glass when Sebastian finally spoke.
“Em--.”
I slammed the glass pitcher onto the granite counter top and I was actually surprised it didn't break, but I turned, grabbing the counter behind me with both hands.
“What is all this?”
“What?”
“You're all sweet and overtly intimate one second and then completely shut yourself off the next. What the fuck is going on? Where has this come from?”
“Can't a guy have a little mystery about him?”
He tried to play it off like I was being ridiculous.
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms sharply in front of me as my foot tapped quickly on the tile floor. Sebastian looked me up and down before extending his left arm out and turning it up towards the ceiling.
The script font that had been carved into his skin was as dark as night and I stepped towards him to take a better look:
They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
The quote alone made my heart sink, but when my eyes settled on my initials inside of a tiny blue heart underneath it, I fell to my knees in front of him as tears fell uncontrollably from my eyes.
“Babe?”
“Why Sebastian? Why did you leave me all those years ago? You have no idea what you did to me. You broke me. I spent years trying to glue the pieces back together. When I finally came to the realization that we were never going to be together again, I moved on… but no one was as good as you. No one made me feel like you do. I hated you. For years I thought about what I would do if I ever saw you again. I'd smack you across the face with an open hand, I'd tell you what a horrible person you were for taking every thing from me. But then when the opportunity came... I couldn't do it. And do you know why? Because all of those butterflies came flocking back making me spiral down that fucking rabbit hole again and you left me speechless. I couldn't tell you I hated you. I felt like my heart was going to jump right out of my chest. Then when I realized my worst fear had come to light, that you had moved on, I ran. All that time, I fantasized that you were just as miserable and alone as I was - not that you could possibly had found another person that made you feel like I did.”
He knelt on the floor next to me, extending one finger to my chin, lifting it so that our eyes were connected.
“Don't cry.”
“We lost all that time, Sebastian. We both married other people. We fooled ourselves into thinking we loved someone other than each other. And now, here we are - playing house or whatever it is we're doing. This isn't normal. We shouldn't be doing this. We can't just act like none of that matters. We can't just act like we're no longer the same people we were just days ago.”
Sebastian brought his fist to his mouth pushing it against his lips as he exhaled loudly, then he smiled at me.
“I got this on my eighteenth birthday,” he looked at the tattoo, then back at me. “And I got it right here, on my arm because it rests against my left side right where my heart is. Right where I kept you all these years. I'm sorry for hurting you and for giving up on us. It's my fault.”
I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand as I nodded in response. The timing was horrible. I was just freshly single, with an entire divorce to still live through. I couldn't make him stick around for that and I wouldn't let him either. It was going to get brutal. I knew Matthew Troyer and he would pull out the big guns. If I was lucky, I'd walk away from our marriage with more than just the five bucks I had in my pocket and the clothes on my back.
“Look, I know this isn't going to be easy and I know we've got a lot of details to work out, but this is our second chance... don't pass it up, please.”
“I can't. I'm sorry. I have to go,” I wrapped my fist around the tiny silver chain around my neck and yanked, pulling it off and leaving it in his trembling hands. His head fell down in defeat before I stood, taking the ring from my finger and laying it flat on the counter.
My bags were still sitting next to the door and still held the same contents as when I'd arrived, minus my toothbrush which was replaceable.
I tore my car keys from the key hook and made my way to the car, tossing my bags in the backseat as quickly as I could. Letting him leave me once was hard, but walking away from him was harder. It was the toughest thing I'd ever done in my life. I didn't need him running after me and begging because I wasn't sure I would be able to stand my ground. I peeled out of the driveway and looked in the rear view mirror one last time before pulling onto the main road.
Adrenaline had filled my veins, giving me the courage to do what I knew I would regret for the rest of my life, but it wore off about five miles into my downward spiral. I pulled the car off the road and turned off the ignition. I beat my fists along the leather grain of the steering wheel before I got out of the car and sucked in, filling my lungs with fresh air. Then I threw up. The small amount of dinner from the night before was al
l that came up. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I reached into the car and grabbed a half empty bottle of water. Swishing the stale liquid around in my mouth, I spit it into the grass, and then came the tears. I must've sat in my car on the side of the road for a solid hour crying. Fighting my own inner battle of turning the car around and going back.
20
I don't remember the twenty-minute drive back to my house. I don't remember going inside, locking the doors, or undressing. The next thing I remembered was waking up the following morning feeling so drained of emotion that my head pounded like a hangover I'd once had back in college where I drank what felt like every ounce of tequila in Tallahassee.
On day two I didn't get out of bed. The only form of human interaction I had for that first week was on day two and day four. I texted my boss and told him there had been a family emergency and I needed some time off. He didn't ask many questions, luckily. Instead he just told me to take care of my family and he would see me when I was ready to come back to work.
On day three, I finally ate. It wasn't much. It was just a piece of stale toast with butter. The butter was vile tasting and made me gag after each chunk I consumed. After forcing the food down, I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen before retreating to my bed once more. I didn't eat again until day five. On day four, Libby messaged me:
Libby: Hey is every thing okay?
Me: Yes just going through some stuff right now.
Libby: Are you coming back to work soon?
Me: I'm not sure.
Libby: Okay, well I hope everything is alright. Let me know if you need anything.
Me: Okay. Thanks Libby.
After a solid week, I'd not only lost the love of my life, but I'd managed to somehow misplace fifteen pounds as well. Coming to the realization that I needed to get my life back on track, I pulled myself from my Sebastian slump. I had wallowed enough for an entire lifetime and I'd be damned if I was going to let him suck another year of my life away from me. I grabbed my laptop and applied for ten positions at various health facilities outside of town. I couldn't bring myself to work at the hospital again. I knew I'd miss my family there, but I couldn't risk ever seeing him again. Now that I was out of his life, I was sure it wouldn't take much for Cassidy to rope him right back in to her save me scheme.