Could she be in there pleasuring herself again?
It had been more awkward for him the last time than it had seemed to be for her. It had also put an idea in the hind regions of his mind that he wasn’t enough to satisfy the urges she obviously had, but was too ashamed to discuss with him. Perhaps it was because when it came to sex Jacob didn’t color outside the lines. He was a simple, three position man, and didn’t much care for trying new things. He hadn’t even watched a porno since he was a teenager, yet adult sites kept popping up in his internet browser’s history. He figured that was Hannah’s doing as well, though he never confronted her about it.
As he’d put the key in the lock, Hannah cried out. “Fuck me…Yeah…Yeah…”
He froze.
His heart hammered against his chest. Something cold and prickly rose up into his throat. He began to shiver in the late May heat.
“Stick it in my ass! You want to, don’t you? Fuck my ass…”
Jacob’s eyes swelled. He looked over at the Mazda, knowing that he would not be interrupting a masturbation session. This time she had a partner.
Delicately, he turned the key, disengaging the deadbolt. Then he curled his fingers around the knob. It felt cold and clammy in his hand. He opened the door and was slapped in the face with a domineering odor.
The musky scent of sex.
Hannah’s moans and cries were much louder now. He eased the door shut, hoping to stifle the clicking of the latch. He probably could have kicked the door shut and it wouldn’t have registered above Hannah’s sounds.
“Oh my God…Fuck yeah…I think I’m gonna come…”
Tears spilled out from Jacob’s eyes as he staggered across the living room on his way to the kitchen using legs that felt too weak and stringy to carry him. His head spun. Everything brightened as if he was in a really bad dream.
“I’m so close…” she rasped.
Jacob bit down on his lip as he stepped up to the kitchen doorway. Hannah sat naked on the edge of the table where they had eaten many meals together, this very morning in fact, leaned back on her elbows, and her legs spread. Her skin was slick with sweat. Each foot was arched, toes down on a separate chair for leverage. Her head was leaned back, breasts heaving, as strands of hair were glued to her shoulders from the sweat. The dildo was inside of her, but instead of her groin, it was up to the hilt in her ass—vigorously going in and out.
He’d been right. She wasn’t alone. She had a partner who was also naked holding the dildo, and sitting in a chair between Hannah’s legs as if she were prepared to catch a baby. Her short blonde hair was wavy and wet against her neck. He recognized her immediately, although his confusion as to why she was here when she was married to Hannah’s brother nearly made his brain split.
He watched them for minutes that ticked by like days. Watched as Hannah’s body convulsed when her orgasm ravaged her, spraying lines of juices across the kitchen from her sex. He’d never seen her squirt before. Another sign he wasn’t enough to please her. It was a marvel the table didn’t collapse underneath her from how hard her body quaked. Then Hannah climbed off the table.
Kissing and fondling each other, Hannah eased her sister-in-law in her place, and was about to use the dildo on her before Jacob’s sobs gave him away.
The heated fights, the anger and shame that shadowed them for the next several weeks had been awful. His brother-in-law threw his wife, and mother of his two children, out of the house. Last Jacob had heard he was trying to get her parental rights taken away.
Unsuccessful at fixing things, and finally understanding that Hannah didn’t really want them to be fixed, Jacob moved out. And Jennifer, Hannah’s ex-sister-in-law, moved in.
The shower no longer sprayed warm water on him, but cold. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there in his abandoned state, but it had been long enough to waste all of the hot water. It felt like arctic needles nicking his skin. He quickly turned off the water, climbed out, and blanketed himself with a towel. He stood on the bathmat, shivering, feeling the humiliation all over again as if he were experiencing it presently.
Then he heard it, supple and pleasing, resonating all around him.
Come to me…
The sadness, the shame, all of it lifted. All that remained was her.
He could see her in the living room. Waiting. Beckoning. Wanting. Her squashy padding, the dark red color, called to him. He wanted to feel it against his skin. He let the towel drop to his ankles, his erection pointing rigid ahead of him.
He left the bathroom. It felt as if he was walking on cotton. He’d never just lounged naked before, not when he’d lived with Hannah, and definitely not before or since.
And, it felt good, elating.
It felt as if he were underwater, the bubbling in his ears, a thickness pressing against his throat. His steps were heavy and sluggish. He could hardly breathe as he approached her, running his hand along her arm. Sliding sinuously against her, he never once thought it odd, or dirty that he was rubbing his naked body against his couch like a cat against someone’s leg. It felt right gliding his hands across the velvety cushions, massaging them, burying his face between them and flicking their creases with his tongue.
He sat down on the floor in front of the loveseat, crossed his legs, and leaned forward, putting his tongue where the cushions had met in the front and made a hole. He tingled as if he’d just licked a battery, a vibrating current nomadic in his body. Through the deluge in his ears, he could hear soft, whispery moans.
Yes…Oooh…I like that…
He put a hand on each cushion, pushed his thumbs together and folded the cushions back, and then lifted the corners to expose a small zipper. Shiny and glossy, it beckoned him. He leaned forward, tapping it with the tip of his tongue, sucking it in and flicking it again and again. The moans in his ears became throaty cries that begged him to continue, and not to stop, because she was getting so close…so close…
He pushed his index finger into the hole and felt the cushions quiver. He rotated it this way and that, drenching his finger with the fluids seeping from the fabric. The steady gasps in his ears rose to a fever-pitch, his head pounding, then it all released, sousing his mouth and chin in a syrupy thickness, warm and salty with a vague taste of cotton. The loveseat trembled, its wooden frame knocking against the wall as it continued to saturate him.
I need you inside me Jacob…I need you…
He sat back, backhanded the lather from his lips, and got on his knees. His hard-on pulsated, throbbing so much it hurt. He gripped the shaft below the engorged head, scooting forward on his knees.
Then he pushed himself into the hole.
The soggy cushions hugged him firmly, taking him all the way inside. She sheathed his penis with moist padding. He began to thrust, delicate and slow at first, but his rhythm increased as did his need. He gripped the arms of the couch as if they were her hands and squeezed, gripping sturdily as he slammed inside of her. The loveseat banged against the wall, cutting a straight-line in the paint.
Jacob could faintly hear growling, and when he realized it was coming from his own throat, he began to howl. The loveseat continued instructing him, demanding him to go harder and faster, to take out his aggressions on her, to prove to himself that he was good at what he did. He needed to open himself up, allow who he was on the inside to come out and play. There was no shame, no humiliation, because he could be himself with her, and let her see who he truly was.
Jacob didn’t have to hide from her.
He felt his climax pushing through his veins, swelling his penis.
Then he erupted, spurting thick gloppy puddles inside of her. His growls bellowed as he quaked. He continued to thrust as he emptied himself at the pleat between the cushions. Afterward, he fell over her, panting, his head buried against the back stuffing. His throat was scratchy and dry, his lips parched. He let a few moments pass to catch his breath, and then pulled out of her, glistening, red fibers clinging to the stickiness that coated his pen
is.
Sitting back on his knees, Jacob ran a hand through his soaked hair. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back. He could feel the smile on his face. He felt good, contented. The loveseat made him feel as if he could do nothing to disappoint her.
And you couldn’t…
The voice was soft, raspy in his mind, and just as winded as he. Smiling, he climbed on the couch, curled up, and went to sleep.
He didn’t wake until morning.
Jacob could not remember ever feeling so good…so refreshed. Whistling, he went to the toilet to empty his bladder. His pee sputtered as it came out, the aftereffect of a good orgasm. When he was finished, he went back to the living room and made love to the loveseat again.
Then he cooked a breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon and ate it on the couch while flipping through channels on TV. He settled for a giant reptile movie on Syfy. It was awful, but cheesy enough that it held his interest. When his plate was clean, he sat it on the end table, had sex with the couch again, and then took a nap on her comfy cushions.
He dreamed. There was nothing to see, just total blackness, but the soft voice was there with him in the dark. When she spoke, a purple orb flickered with each syllable, illuminating only briefly the vast expanse of emptiness where it was just the two of them.
I have to feed.
“What should I feed you?”
Think about it…You know what I need to live…to be with you, to satisfy you.
He didn’t have to think about it. Somehow, he already knew exactly what it was that she must consume in order to remain his.
I will begin to abrade and my seat will no longer be soft. Inside, I will dry up, become brittle and coarse. My skin will tear, rip, become too stale to sit upon, or to make love with. I will not be able to satisfy you, and you will grow tired of me.
“I would never be tired of you.”
You will…
“Then what should I do?”
You already know what you should do…
****
He awoke on the couch with an icy block between his shoulders. He looked at the clock hanging above the mantel. It was almost three. He’d nearly slept through the whole day. But, being Sunday, the flea market would be open for two more hours.
He hoped the old man was there.
He needed to talk to him.
The Pine Grove Flea Market was practically deserted; the few people browsing were like lost souls wandering between two worlds in a daze. The cheerless, worn expressions on their faces were open books to a private life of pain and misery. Had he looked like that yesterday? Probably. Wait, not yesterday…that had to have been days ago…But, it wasn’t.
He hurried to the building where the old man’s shop had been. Walking so fast, he was virtually running as he approached the lot number. It was vacant. The shelves that had displayed various knick-knacks were empty. A blue tarp covered a card table to the left. It lay flat on top of it. No shapes or objects hidden underneath.
Shit.
He turned around, scanning the building up one side and down the other from where he stood. No sign of Gus, nor would there have been, but he had to try anyway.
Then he heard a rusted crank behind him. He whirled around, catching Gus raising the metal door on his way in. Two boxes sat on the concrete, both taped shut. He’d obviously been returning to fetch them. He glanced at Jacob, nodded, and then went to grab the boxes, but stopped. He looked back, recognition kicking in.
“I’d almost given up on you.”
Jacob stepped as close as the counter would allow. “You remember me?”
“Of course I do, it was only yesterday when you were here.”
Jacob swallowed. It was wet and bubbly. “I think you probably know why I’m here.”
Gus nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching as if it were attempting a smile. “I’m sure I do.”
“Tell me this…Is what I’m thinking true?”
“She told you she needed to feed?” Jacob nodded. “Then, what you’re thinking is exactly true. I told you, there wasn’t a couch like her.”
“She isn’t just a couch…She’s more.”
“And, so what if she is?” Gus spat. It popped when it hit the floor. “I can tell just by looking in your eyes that you are happier than you’ve been in a long time. Hell, probably ever. Am I right about that?”
Jacob could have lied, but Gus would have seen through it.
“That’s what I thought.” Squatting, Gus scooped up a box, pressing it against his chest as he stood. Then he sat it on the tarp-covered table. “Listen, you know what they say: In order for true happiness, you have to make some sacrifices…and that’s accurate.”
Sacrifices.
Ice flowed through Jacob’s veins. He shuddered. “I know what she’s telling me…I just don’t think I can…”
Gus smirked. “I know exactly how you feel.” He waved his hand toward him. “Might as well come outside and have a seat. I’ve got a cooler back there with some Dr. Pepper in it. Want one?”
Jacob hadn’t realized just how thirsty he was until Gus mentioned it. “Yes, that would be great.”
“Thought so. You have to keep your body hydrated and healthy for her. I recommend drinking a lot of water and milk…”
Jacob stepped around the counter, following Gus through the opened garage door. Behind the building, Gus’s moving truck was backed up to the door with its rear gate raised. A cooler sat at the edge of the cargo bay, a folding chair on each side. Jacob looked at Gus, a confused expression on his face, but before he could ask, Gus nodded.
“I thought you might come by.”
Gus grabbed the handle and hoisted himself up. Jacob took the ramp. They each sat in a chair. As Gus opened the cooler and fished through the ice for two cans of Dr. Pepper, Jacob leaned forward, drumming his fingers together. He stopped when Gus passed him a can. “Here ya go, nice and cold.”
The can was frosty and wet in his hand. He popped the tab and took a long, hard swallow. The drink burned, but was refreshing as it decanted down his throat. “If you knew I would come by, then why didn’t you just tell me all of this yesterday?”
Gus drank before answering. “Would you have taken her if I had?”
“Of course not.”
“And, that’s why I didn’t tell you yesterday.” Gus drank some more before continuing. “You were meant to have her. If I would’ve said something about it then you would have said no right away, and I couldn’t stand in the way of that.”
“But, you could profit.”
“You call five bucks a profit?” Gus croaked a laugh. “Please.” He took another sip. “It wasn’t even enough to cover this soda and ice.”
“Glad I could help.”
Gus’s deep-south drawl took on a more intelligent eminence. “Listen, you can do what she needs you to do, or you can ignore it. But, I’ll tell you this much. If you ignore it, you will find yourself worse than you were before she came along. Your health will dwindle; your looks will go bad. I lost weight, couldn’t stop sweating, my eyes looked like they were sucking into my head. You’ll lose your hair, and your teeth will start falling out. See?” Gus reached into his mouth, pinched his front teeth between his forefinger and thumb, then pulled them from his mouth. Dentures. In his hand was a perfect set of artificial teeth. “Happened to me.”
“Wait…you mean…her…”
Gus nodded. “Yep. Basically, if you give up on her, you give up on yourself. She was mine for twenty years. I came across her four months after my wife Mary was raped and murdered. I had tried to kill myself, but fucked it up, so I ended up spending some time in a hospital.” He tapped a finger against his temple. “A mental hospital.”
“Jesus.”
“So…when they thought I was fit to give life another go, they let me out. I went back home, trying to piece together what was left of the wreck my life had become since losing Mary. One thing I had to do was get rid of all the furniture that she had put in our house,
which was damn near everything. Seeing it all the time was just too much. So, I got this truck here,” he patted the sidewall, “and, loaded it up. I took the furniture to a thrift store and donated it. The lady who owned the place was so thankful for what I had done, but she also worried about what I would sit on, and with my Mary dead and gone, who’d keep me company.
I tried convincing her I’d be alright, but she didn’t believe it. Hell, I didn’t believe it myself. So, she took me into the back where she kept what she called the special items and took me straight to the loveseat. God, I can still remember how she just seemed to glow in that dark room. Everything else was junk compared to her. It almost seemed like a light was shining down from heaven on her, just to make sure I didn’t overlook her.”
“So, you took her home?”
“Yep. For two bucks.” He winked. “And, she made me happy for the first couple of days. Then she told me she needed to feed.”
Another flurry of spider legs scurried up Jacob’s back.
Feed.
“And, to feed her…I mean…what she eats is…is…”
“Blood.”
Jacob closed his eyes, leaned back his head. “Shit.”
“You better believe it.” Gus swigged from the can, emptying it. He crushed it in his palm, and tossed it behind him. Fishing through the cooler for another, he continued. “She’s not picky either…Hell, she’ll take the whole thing.” He sat up, popped the tab. It was like a shotgun blast in the tight compartment. “You know what I mean by the whole thing, right?”
Jacob nodded. The entire body. He didn’t need to ask if the blood had to be human, because somehow, he already knew it needed to be.
“The first was the hardest. That’ll be the hardest for you, too. Well, the second one is no walk-in-the-park either, but it’s a tad bit easier. By the fourth and so on, you don’t hardly feel a thing anymore.”
“What is she, really?”
Gus swigged some soda, shrugged. “Hell if I know. I stopped trying to figure that out and just enjoyed it. But, for me to be happy, and for you to be happy now, you have to keep her happy.”
Last One Alive Page 13