Crush

by Laura Susan Johnson

  "Please what?" I ask sweetly, menacingly, loathe to stop, my mouth watering the instant I release him to ask the tiny question.

  He lies below me, chanting, sobbing, "Please... please... please... please..."

  "I want you to cream right into my mouth," I snarl gently, my greedy tongue lapping, dragging, curling around him. "Come on, Baby. I know you're ready. Come on. Come inside my mouth..."

  He pants and convulses and silently wails as I work him over. He arches his back so high he nearly snaps his spine. "Please Tammy... Please..." And he begins to scream shrilly as I gulp the honeyed essence of him down in warm, hungry, luscious swallows.

  When the last weak little spurt of semen has left his body, I release him and hastily crawl up to gather him up against me.

  I had known he'd cry the minute I'd decided I wanted to do this to him, for him. Now I hold him. I don't ask questions, I don't tell him not to cry. It's taken real courage for him to allow himself to be this vulnerable with me, and I'm so humbled and awe-struck I can't speak right now anyway.

  I let him cry as long as he needs to, and finally, he raises his head, shakes it sadly.

  "Are you okay?" I whisper, brushing my lips against the damp tangles of his hair.

  He looks around frantically for his notepad and scribbles, I'm trying, Tammy. I'm trying to get over what they did.

  "You're not your father," I tell him as sternly as if I'm talking to a child, maybe a little too sternly. "You are not a dirty perverted creep who rapes children! You are my husband. That's who you are! God, Jamie. If only you could see yourself the way I see you. If only you knew..."

  With an aghast frown, he touches his finger to my chin. "What?" I ask softly. When he brings it away, I see he's dipped it into a dollop of creamy, iridescent sperm that's still sticking to my chin. I take his finger, my eyes on his, and suck it into my mouth, onto my tongue, moaning at his pungent taste. "I'm telling you, you're not dirty, you're delicious. And you're mine." I catch the tender pad of his finger between my teeth and bite softly, smiling at him. A gasp escapes him, and his eyelids droop almost sleepily, over eyes glazed with pleasure, the pupils opening, dark and languid. His breath comes in warm, excited bursts. His perfect mouth quivers east and west into a smile that makes my cock throb harder as he pulls his hand away and attacks me so wildly I don't even have time to utter a cry of surprise. His tongue plunders my mouth as we roll all over the bed. I barely have time to arrange his soft little blanket under his ass before his legs are spread-eagle, his body bent into a "V" beneath mine as I fuck him like a jackhammer.

  He screams again as we come simultaneously, his voice feral and keening. Our orgasm lasts a small eternity, leaving my cock both tingly numb and chafed and hyper-sensitised.

  Jamie lies in my arms, mute again, but smiling so blissfully, so radiantly, that I know there's hope for him.

  After a little bit, he writes in his notepad, I thought I was the wife, and giggles in his throaty way.

  forty-four

  jamie

  (getting married,

  february 14 and 15)

  Our budget isn't very big, and after we book our flight, the hotel, and the chapel, after we order our cake, lemon flavoured, with white and yellow buttercream frosting, we're practically out of money.

  "Leave it to me," says Ma.

  "Me too," adds Stacy, and they hurry down to a cute little market where they buy enough chicken breasts to feed fifteen to twenty people twice, three big loaves of sourdough, some fresh veggies, sour cream, sprigs of rosemary and other herbs, butter, and three bottles of pink and peach champagne. "Okay, now we're broke," Ma laughs.

  You guys are so great. You shouldn't have done all this, I tell them when they're done slicing and sautéing and cooking. You shouldn't have spent all your money.

  "You'll change your mind when you taste it," says Stacy.

  We use the nice copper pots and pans and casserole dishes from our hotel rooms to carry the food in. The menu is chicken breasts cooked in butter and sour cream with rosemary and baby portabella mushrooms, sourdough toast with garlic butter, a simple mix of cooked vegetables, and cake and champagne.

  The chapel is decorated in red and yellow roses and white ribbons and bows. Stacy wears her prettiest red dress and sparkly red shoes, like Dorothy's ruby slippers, as she takes me to Tammy. Ma, wearing a dress printed in red and black flowers and leaves, sits down, having delivered her son to the front.

  Tammy's in his black tux, and I'm too nervous to process how good he looks until we look at our wedding photos later on. I wear white tweed pants and a bright white filmy shirt, its collar lapels embossed with flowers, butterflies, and other pretty things in white thread.

  Stacy gives me to Tammy, then she and his cousin Natalie, twenty-three years old with dark hair and emerald eyes identical to Tammy's and Ma's, sing the songs we picked for the wedding. The girls' voices are gorgeous, and they both look beautiful, Stacy in her red frock and Natalie in a simple little black spaghetti strap dress.

  I thought this would be the happiest day of my life, but I hate this. I can't say my vows to Tammy. I have to let the judge say them and all I can do is nod. It doesn't feel right, and my emotions are so tangled up that I angrily stamp my feet. It's pure stress, and I'll be glad to have it over with, at least this part, standing in front of our family and friends, my voice lodged, my head pounding, my heart slamming, my bladder suddenly full.

  Tammy's eyes never avert from mine as he recites his hand-written vows. My ears are ringing. I hear people laughing lightly... I just smile, my eyes darting around like those of a trapped rabbit. I don't hear the judge telling us we're married. I wanted to hear those legal words out of his official mouth. Suddenly Tammy's bowing to kiss me. My lips are numb again. I hardly feel it. We turn to face our family and friends, having just crossed the line in the sand from Single-pore into Marriedland. My knees are like water. I need to sit down.

  Marilyn comes up to me afterward and hugs me. "Angel, I'm so glad you found someone to love you. I always noticed the sadness in your eyes and I don't see that anymore. I think you will be very happy. You deserve happiness." She looks over at Tammy. "He sure is a good-looking babe," she exclaims. "You're lucky!"

  She turns to my husband and says, "You take good care of this little angel. You be good to him."

  "I will," Tammy promises.

  We're both naked less than ten minutes after Stacy and Ma leave to go eat. I wish like hell we would have gone with them. Tonight, he wants to go down on me, he says, and he won't take no for an answer.

  I don't want to hurt his feelings tonight. Tonight is our first night of married life.

  Cold shivers run down my back as I sit gingerly on the still-made bed. Tammy sits close to me, expectantly, tentatively stroking my shoulder and kissing the back of my neck.

  No. I'm not agreeing to this. I can't.

  I don't want it.

  I just plain don't want it.

  I can go my entire life without this. I offer to do it to him first, easily convincing him by telling him that it's only fair I give him a gift first, since he gives and buys me twice as much as I do him. If I can tire him out, or myself, maybe I can get off the hook.

  Nope. In spite of how happy Tammy is when I'm through, he's not going to forget it. Quietly, we bicker, Tammy with his voice, me with my stupid damn notepad.

  I can't just miraculously erase my association of studded belts and glowing cigarette tips with what Tammy wants to do to me.

  But he won't let up. "Please, Jamie. Please let me... Let me. I want to show you how beautiful, how wonderful, I think you are."

  No! I write. Please stop asking me, Tammy. Please. This is our wedding night. I want it to be beautiful.

  "It will be, Jamie, if you let me love you. Please..."

  By this time, I'm crying. I'm not going to let Tammy have his way. I'm not going to put myself through that...

  ...and yet I still feel guilty.

  And it makes
me so angry.

  At him.

  I shove him away, run to the bathroom and throw up in the toilet. Why can't he leave me alone about this?! Why is he doing this to me?!

  He's on the other side of the door, rattling the locked knob frantically. "Jamie! I'm sorry! Please let me in! Please let me in!"

  I roll into a ball on the bathroom floor.

  You're always crying, I think to myself. You're always so sad. You're always so fucking sad.

  "Please, Jamie. I'm sorry! Come out. Forget about it. I won't make you if you don't want to, you know that. Come on, please. Come out, or let me in. Baby, please?"

  Now he's crying again too, of course.

  I'm not doing this to be cruel to him!

  Why can't he see?! Why can't he understand?!

  I remember the things he said to me the night I was attacked and left for dead. "Let me love you. Let me care. Let me in. You haven't let me totally in."

  I recall the first time he had attempted to make love to me with his mouth, and I had screamed bloody murder, had curled my body up, such horrid images before me that I covered my eyes.

  "Don't you trust me?" he had asked.

  Trust.

  Well, there it is. Do I trust Tammy? Do I?

  I love him, yeah, but do I trust him?

  Why did I marry him, if I can't put my trust into him?

  "Jamie? Jamie?"

  It's not about Tammy, I argue with myself.

  Are you a porn star? they had asked that night. Do you like fucking your daddy?

  No! I had never liked it!

  But you're such a good actor... could have fooled me.

  I was doing what Mommy told me to. I didn't want her to...

  "Jamie, please open the door..."

  But she did, didn't she? She did it anyway. She hit you and burned you every single time. You did exactly what she wanted, how she wanted. You did it perfectly, like a little porn star. So if you knew she was going to hit you anyway, why did you do it?

  Because I always thought, maybe this one time, she'll hug me and kiss me and tell me what a good boy I am.

  She never did. All I ever wanted was for them to love me.

  Tammy pounds harder on the door. "Come on, Jamie! I'm sorry! Please!"

  You were nothing to them. You were garbage. That's all you were. That's all you'll ever be. Don't ever decide to have a child... don't even bother. You'll just become your own daddy.

  No. I could never do that to a child! I'd rather die!

  It runs in families, that kind of thing...

  I'd rather have been beaten to death! Why did they have to find me?

  Because I prayed. I prayed for you to come home to me.

  Maybe you shouldn't have... I don't want to live if I'm a bad person... I don't want to be a child molester! I'd rather die!

  Stop it!

  I mean it!

  You're not a child molester.

  I'm not talking to the Accuser anymore. Every time you ask me to let you do that, I feel like I'm going to become Daddy.

  You're not him!

  I can't believe him. I can't trust him. He's only saying these things to make me feel better, to trick me into giving in to him. How do I know? How do I know I don't have the same compulsions, the same perversions? I'd rather die than hurt a child! I'd rather go through it again myself than do it to anybody.

  That's why you're not him. I've seen your soul too, Jamie. You're not an evil person, you're not. You're good.

  I stand up, wipe my eyes.

  You promise?

  I promise, Baby. Open the door. Let me in.

  I blink. Tammy?

  Yeah.

  Am I talking to you?

  Yes, you're talking.

  I'm talking?!

  You are.

  I am!

  I open the door to him, walk right into him, throw myself against him, cling to him. His arms rope around me, crush me against him. His lips ravage mine. "Jamie... Jamie... Jamie..." Immediately I'm sinking, drowning. He kisses my neck, my chest, my tummy. I'm throbbing, I'm erect, I'm burning in a sea of magma. "Tammy... Tammy... Tammy... Ohmygod!"

  But as soon as I realise he still wants to do it—that thing I don't want— I begin to freeze.

  I can't let it go. The fire crystallises as Mommy's gravelly voice sweeps over me. You're a dirty boy, Jamie. You're filthy dirty...

  Now my body won't respond. I'm cold, numb, flaccid, lifeless. I'm not even shivering. I'm cold as death.

  Don't turn off your feelings, Jamie, he had pleaded on Christmas Eve in my living room, frantically searching my eyes...

  I'm frozen, unresponsive. "Please... Jamie, please..."

  He kisses my cold, numb lips. Come back... come back... please...

  I'm afraid, I whisper, paralysed, cold, in the dark.

  Look at me, Tammy whispers.

  I can't. Even my eyes are frozen.

  Please... look at me, Jamie.

  I let out a small breath. It's frozen too.

  Look at me, Baby.

  His voice... God. I can't ignore it. I never could! My eyes stab into his angrily. "What?" I sob. "What do you want from me?"

  "I want you to let me in. Let me in..."

  "I have!"

  "More, Jamie, more. I want to be so close to you that you'll never, ever be afraid again. I want to erase every horrible thing they did."

  "You won't!" I hiss.

  "Let me try, Baby, please!" His eyes delve deeply into me. "Please," he whispers. "Let me try. Let me try..."

  I'm paralysed. I can't move. To reject him. To permit him. I can't move. I can't move...

  "Push me away," he croons, and my breath deserts me.

  "Go on. Push me away," he repeats.

  "I can't," I cry in anguish. "I can't!"

  I can't help it. He sees my eyes, how much I adore him, how much I want to let him do whatever he wants, how much I want to let go of this terror. His voice melts the steel around my heart. His lips touch mine, Mommy disappears and the flames leap again. Tammy's hands clasp around my ass as he grinds against me. "You're so beautiful," he sobs as our mouths come together noisily in those sexy, nakedly honest, scorching closed mouthed kisses. Slowly, my body warms, and the same crushing lust-love that has forever kept me at Tammy's mercy makes my tummy liquefy, my thighs tingle, my pelvis clench, my asshole pucker, my cock swell and throb in time with my wildly beating heart. His whispering pleas caress me inside, "Please, Jamie. Let me love you, let me... let me show you everything I feel. Please... please..." I gasp as he lifts me into his arms, beyond helpless and struck dumb again, the only sounds from my lips being voiceless, feeble sobs as he carries me to the big bed and lays me down. "I'll talk you all the way through this, Jamie. I'll help you. Just please... please... let me show you... let me..."

  And so I lie, flat on my back on my security blanket, motionless and dizzy with desire and terror that are equally relentless. My body screams for his lips, but the fear is right there, tainting it, the fear that once my body does what Tammy wants it to do, I'll be ashamed... I'll be strangled with shame.

  He loves you, I tell myself as his lips begin to travel down my body. He's not trying to hurt you.

  He's not your mother.

  He's not your father.

  He's not you. He's not a child at all.

  And you're not your father.

  You are you and he is he. This is love. This is your miracle. This is the miracle you've always hoped for. Tammy loves you.

  Slowly, I try to feel what Tammy feels. I try to feel the love he has for me. I try to feel why he thinks this is so important.

  Don't turn off your feelings, Jamie, Tammy whispers.

  I try to feel.

  I begin to feel.

  The horror that has kept my skin numb and asleep begins to thaw a little.

  I begin to come out of my own head...

  ...and I feel it, his hot, moist breath melting the frost, searing my skin, his voice, teasing, demanding,
promising, sending bolts of lighting crackling through every re-awakened, quivering nerve. In spite of how hot I burn, my body, alive and shining, shivers uncontrollably as I lie beneath him, writhing, helpless, lost, my eyes closed tight.

  "You're not dirty," he rasps as he swipes his rough tongue tirelessly over me, his hunger rapacious, terrifying. "You're delicious. You're beautiful... you're mine. You're so precious to me, Baby. You're so wonderful, you don't even know. You have no idea how much I adore you..."

  The dam inside my heart blows apart. The pillow under my head becomes soaked as I suck sobbing breaths into my lungs.

  "Don't be afraid of your body, Baby..."

  I'm being loved, I'm being worshipped, I'm being controlled, I'm being possessed. I'm completely his. I'm afraid. I feel it coming, and I'm afraid. I'm so afraid and I love it... I love it...

  "This is the holiest part of your body, did you know that, my Baby? Did you know that? No wonder you've felt so dirty. They sinned against you. They tried to make you ugly, like they are..." He kisses and gently sucks my most secret flesh, and under the pounding waves, I cry for mercy, but he doesn't hear me. He's talking again. "They didn't win. They'll never win, Jamie. They can't, because you'll always be beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful..."

  They'll never win, I cry inside. They'll never win...

  I struggle to hold onto that as Tammy stops talking and his mouth becomes more loving, more ardent, more relentless. The sheets scrape roughly against my back as I dance and twist and buck into his mouth. I can feel it breaking... something is breaking... as my orgasm begins to come to the surface, ready to pull me up through the whitecaps on this boiling, churning sea I'm lost in.

  Why?! I ask furiously. Why did they do it to me?! Why?!

  There's no answer to that. And I've known it for years. But I keep asking, don't I? I need to stop asking.

  I need to let it go.

  I want, I need, to wrest myself free...

  Let it go...

  A hot wave is rolling up my body, crashing onto the shore, into my voice. "Please," I begin to cry softly. "Please, Tammy... please? Please? Please?"