by Mike Duke
She gave him a look like she didn’t want to admit he was right, because she never did like doing that, but then stepped forward, and grabbed the beer, her actions saying what she chose not to say with words. It was an understanding they had, and Carl knew how to work it.
Jessica opened the beer, and took a sip.
“Well, I know you’ve dreaded coming to this place, but inside here it’s not too awfully bad, is it?”
Jessica looked at him closely, as she asked the question, trying to assess what his thoughts were beneath the surface - where he either kept things hidden, or occasionally, dredged them up to throw out into the open, for all to endure. There wasn’t much in between.
“Yeah, inside here isn’t bad,” he replied. “But I fear it’s the calm before the roach storm eventually arrives. There’s no way they won’t be in here, with how many are outside. On the other hand, as annoying as that lady, Janet, seems, she’s nice. And the boys are cool. I think they may even look out for us a little, after what I did for them. My biggest concern, besides the roaches getting in here, are the big human cock roaches around here. I saw a couple of hoodlums when I went across the street. They looked me up and down, like a prospective piece of meat, but didn’t do anything. We’re both going to have to take precautions, when we are coming and going. It would be easy to become a statistic around here.”
Jessica gave Carl an ingratiating smile, as she walked towards him, and knelt down in between his legs.
“They didn’t want to mess with you, baby, because they could smell the tiger in you. They knew a predator, when they saw one.”
Carl let out a ‘harrumph’ sound spontaneously, a subconscious questioning of what he was now compared to years gone by, clearly hanging heavy on his brow.
“I don’t know about that, honey. I feel more and more, like an old man holding onto a weapon, scared he might have to use it ‘cause he’s too decrepit to do anything else.”
He patted his right, front pocket to indicate the small, hammerless revolver he kept there at all times, his concealed carry permit always ready in his wallet, as well. It was a gift from his father, several years ago, when he was first injured, and his life changed forever.
His dad understood what all it meant, for a man to lose his strength, his core vitality and ability to protect himself, on his own, without looking to anyone or anything else for help. He had been in a bad motorcycle accident when Carl turned thirteen. His dad’s left leg was never the same after that, and a cane was standard issue for the rest of his life.
Carl looked off into the bedroom, not wanting to look Jessica in the eye. He hated feeling weak, much less acknowledging it to her.
“Hey, baby. Remember that old saying, about being as good once as you ever were? You may not be able to train and spar, all the time like you used to do, but you can still be a badass, if you have to be. You’re still dangerous in my book; no doubt about it. So chin up. I love you.”
Carl stared deadpan at her.
“Did you just use some old redneck saying, to give me life advice?”
Jessica giggled, and took another sip of her beer.
“That I just did, good sir. Yes, I did. And, it’s true.” She took another sip. “And you know it,” she said, tipping the beer in his direction, a subtle demand that he not argue with her on this one.
“Hmmm. Alright,” Carl said, then downed his beer, and smiled at Jessica. “Tell me, does that apply to certain other areas of performance, as well, good lady?”
Jessica caught his drift, but looked around the apartment, which was still predominantly unpacked, and the mattress and box springs were still leaned against the wall, with the bed frame in pieces.
“The bed’s not set up yet,” she said, plainly, with a hint of sadness in her voice, that they couldn’t take advantage of this uncommon spontaneity.
“Excuse me, dear lady, but your protests are insignificant in stature, and easily remedied.”
Carl stood, kicked off his shoes, and walked into the bedroom, where Jessica watched him lay the box springs on the floor and then simply lay the mattress on top, without worrying about setting up the frame. He walked back, and extended his hand. Jessica took it, and he helped her stand, then, suddenly, scooped her over his shoulder, and headed to the bedroom, Jessica squealing in delight, even as she kicked her feet, and struggled in mock fashion.
“Me thinks the lady protesteth falsely.”
Carl tossed her down on the bed, unbuckled his pants and stripped them, off along with his underwear, his excitement clearly visible.
“What do you take me for, dear sir? A mere harlot?” Jessica laid her hand, dramatically, across her heart.
“Actually, no. The lady is the rightful spoils of my warfare conducted this very day in taking over this fortress, and I will have thee, as my reward, whether thee agrees to it, or not.”
Carl squinted, a provocative look, challenging Jessica to take the bait, and run with it. It had been a long time since they had done this, but from the look on her face, Carl could tell that not only did she know it was on, but she was down for the game.
“You sir, will have to take it, if thou really wanteth it. I will not go, quietly.” Jessica smiled, coyly, even as her eyes flashed a lustful desire, for the delicious struggle that was about to begin.
Carl grabbed Jessica by her feet, and pulled her to the edge of the bed, lifting her so her ass dangled in the air. He quickly wrapped his arms around both legs to hold her there, while he unbuttoned her pants, and then, shook her up and down, till they peeled off, along with her underwear, and she plopped back down on the bed, naked and exposed, from the waist down, vulnerable to any attempts he would make to penetrate her.
Jessica shrimped her hips back and forth to make space between them, smiling the whole time, but still trying to play at being unwilling, to a degree. As Carl came forward, on his knees, she used her feet, to push his hips away. He snaked his arms inside, and under her legs quickly, before she could maneuver them out of his grip, and back into position. He lowered his head, and locked both arms, right at the crook of her hips, pulling her in, and burying his face in her groin.
A moan escaped Jessica’s mouth, as her back arched in delight. She let him devour her for almost a minute, before she forced herself, to keep the game afoot. She shifted her hips, and pressed the back of one thigh down on his head, forcefully pushing him onto his side. She skittered back, across the bed, in a hurry, her toned leg muscles, rippling as she went. Jessica came to rest on her knees, body erect, a challenging look bearing down on Carl, as she took off her shirt and bra, and cast them aside.
“You canst not have me, wretched sir. I am strong, and can take care of myself, as you have now seen. I will resist thee to my dying breath.” She shook her head, in feigned defiance.
A devious smile sprang to Carl’s mouth. He was giddy, like a school boy.
“My lady, prepare to have your hindquarters chastised for this insolent struggle against your rightful master. Hah!”
Carl lunged forward and they tied arms up, jockeying for position, Carl not overly using his size and strength, so as to keep it sporting and fun for a bit longer. They both executed techniques they had learned in the earliest days of their relationship, when they trained Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu together, learning how to wrestle and submit people with joint locks and chokes. It had been their form of occasional play during sex, all those years ago, but had slowly disappeared over time after Carl’s workplace accident.
Jessica loved the pursuit, the push and pull, the maneuvering for one end only. The sheer desire on display. The way Carl struggled to have her, it aroused every inch of skin, and caused her to become unusually wet. She truly had missed this, the challenge, the roughhousing, but especially the way it made her feel so wanted.
Carl was now overcome, with his desire for Jessica. She could tell by how he pressed forward, with no thought as to what she might do. She seized the opportunity, and hip tossed him across the bed, sla
pping him full on in the face, before withdrawing a couple of feet, a victorious look blazing across her whole countenance.
“You, sir, are over-confident, and unworthy of my deliciously moist nether victuals,” she declared, trying desperately not to laugh. “A real man would not have made such an amateurish error.”
Jessica’s face was ablaze with hormones and joy, and titillating cat and mouse adrenaline rushing through her whole body all at once. Carl read her like a well-perused book, intimately familiar with each page, even if it had been some time, since he observed these specific portions of text. She longed for him to catch her, fair and square, to exert his dominance and conquer her. She knew he could, and every visibly quivering fiber in her body, told Carl she ached for him to do it now, without any further delay.
“You mistake coy restraint, and playing with my food, for the real predator’s pounce, my lady. So be it! Thou has asked for it with your lips and eyes and the heady scent of your sultry pheromones” he said, then spread his arms wide, and issued his declaration of licentious war with a deep, baritone voice that boomed within the bedroom.
“Prepare thee now to see this beast in all his devouring glory!”
Carl lunged forward, dropping low at the last second, as Jessica reached out to meet him. His redirect allowed him to enter all the way inside, and place his cheek on her stomach, while wrapping his right arm around her lower back, and the other her waist. He clasped his hands together, and pulled sharply, drawing her left side tight, against his chest; a dominant position to work from, undoubtedly solidified. Jessica was thoroughly taken by surprise, and utterly excited by Carl’s skilled performance. He didn’t delay either, but instantly slipped around towards Jessica’s back, pulling in on her gut with one hand, as he hooked under her other arm, and cupped the back of her head with his left hand - a technique in wrestling called a half. Control of her upper body and midsection secured, he folded Jessica forward, forcing her to catch herself with the one arm that could do anything.
Carl had a plan now, and was implementing it, without any pause or delay. He reached between her legs from behind, and cupped her pubic bone, lifting her hips high enough off the bed, that her knees lost contact with the mattress, before he snatched back, roughly moving her into a more prone position. Jessica squealed in surprise, then moaned. He grabbed the wrist of the hand keeping her upper body off the bed, and pulled it all the way between her thighs; another classic wrestling maneuver called a Ball and Chain.
Her head crashed into the mattress and, before she could try to struggle, he gently trapped her calves with his right shin, keeping them pinned in place to the bed. He used the wrestling half, controlling her left shoulder and head, to keep her upper body from resisting, and the other arm as a control point…and for leverage. Forcefully pulling on her right arm trapped between her thighs, enabled Carl to pull her hips to meet his rock hard phallus.
Jessica was so ready for him, too. Carl slid inside her, and she released a muffled scream of pure pleasure at having been finally caught, fair and square.
The rest of their adventurous role-play was a mutually enjoyed vulgar display of power as he dominated her fully, her head pinned down, and her hips incapable of escape, as he pounded away, over and over, till they both climaxed together for the first time in years. The whole thing was a fervent commotion of rapid shouts, moans and squalls, escalating to a crescendo of howling chaos that surely gave Janet, the boys and anyone else above or below them, something to talk about concerning the newest tenants.
Breathing heavily, they collapsed, and held each other for some time in silence, except for a few glowing compliments on each other’s performances. In time, they nodded off for a nap, then rose again an hour later, to continue setting up their new home together, both happy and feeling quite content.
*****
Over the next few days, they managed to get everything put away, and hardly left the apartment except, to go buy a few groceries. Jessica filed her unemployment documents over their computer. She had tried applying to several places online. Fewer and fewer employers actually wanted someone to walk in and make a face to face contact, which just made it easier, to be ignored and judged, according to mere words on paper, that, she believed, could never fully represent who she was.
It was very frustrating. And the pressure was on. Her unemployment would be running out soon, and she didn’t think they would qualify for welfare, in addition to Carl’s disability. But his disability wasn’t enough to support them financially, and they both knew it.
He hadn’t been able to work long enough to generate anything in Social Security. Carl had drawn the short straw at a very young age. Just having entered the work place a couple of years prior, he was cutting his teeth on a shit job in a shit factory that didn’t give a damn for their employees. Carl’s father had managed to get him a job, at the same chemical plant that his father had worked at for some twenty five years. It had been a good place to work at, but a year after Carl started, a group of investors bought out the company, and everything went to hell with great haste.
They forced people, like Carl’s dad, into retirement with packages far less valuable than what they had been promised by the past owners. But there was no choice. Take it or leave with nothing – fired. A year later, the accident happened, and the company fought Carl, tooth and nail, trying to blame him, and denying him any disability, until the court finally ruled in his favor. Only thing though, the judge ordered just a fraction of what Carl’s attorney was asking for. He couldn’t help but think that there was some connection between the judge and the company; a favor owed, perhaps. Either way, it was a railroad dry fuck all around, and now Carl was financially and physically locked into an unchangeable set of circumstances that only got worse as the cost of living rose, and his body aged. He was only thirty five years old, but Jessica knew he felt like he was sixty, half the time.
She hated it, and hated what it did to him; especially what it did to him, emotionally. It was like gangrene, rotting him from the inside out, but he couldn’t die. Some days, it just manifested as a general malaise that zapped his sense of humanity, extracted all the color and smell out of life and turned it bland, drab, and meaningless. Other days, the anger would strike the boiling point and flash forward on anyone nearby. His tongue would flail madly, and venom would hurl from it like, some spitting cobra, enraged.
But Jessica knew that was just the reality of it. Chronic pain and suffering do that to people and the longer it goes on, the worse it is. Cycle down to crushing depression and despair and then cycle up to violent displays of hate and discontent with what life has dealt a person. That’s just reality though, she thought, a vicious, inescapable circle. But God forbid, you be around and in its path when the bitter upswing took place and Carl’s wrath flowed. At times, it had proven formidable, indeed, though never physically directed at her. The walls, however, were a different story, and never completely safe.
And yet, Jessica empathized, and understood the struggle. Carl didn’t just give in, and let go. He fought the anger, the rage, and the disappointment that never stopped gnawing at his guts. He did his best to not let it reign. And like everyone, some days you fight your demons, and some days you curl up fetal, too tired to fight, and just hope they don’t fuck everything up while you’re gone.
Jessica surfed the net, as her mind wandered. Hunting for anywhere nearby, that might be hiring. The only thing she could find was a temp agency. She dreaded the thought, but saved the page. Sometimes, you have to do things you hate for the ones you love.
“Adulting 101, but no fun,” Jessica mumbled, to herself.
On the bright side, she thought, five days here, and still no roaches had trespassed upon their isle of bug-free tranquility. That had to count for something. She tried to be the ‘glass half full’ gal to offset Carl’s ‘this is damn near empty and it’s not even decent beer, it tastes like piss’ attitude.
The struggle was real.
****
*
Carl was sleeping on his left side, facing the wall, when he first stirred from a good sleep, something itching, or perhaps better described as prickling, across the skin of his right shoulder blade area. His brain swam into consciousness slowly, as if through a viscous fluid that struggled against him. But, finally, his lucidity surfaced, and connected the dots, which revealed something on par with a paint by numbers picture to his mind.
It looked a lot like a big ass cockroach…and it was moving, surely crawling across his shoulder, the sensations rising and falling, in multiplicity with each light touch of exoskeleton legs, as they traversed space in fractions of millimeters.
Instinctual reflexes triggered by a fear common unto all men engaged, and Carl’s left hand shot up to scoop at his shoulder, where he felt the unwanted contact. His fingers curled around the form, and his hand flicked, the insect sent flying across the room to hit the wall.
“Fuck!” escaped his lips in a panicked cry, without a single thought.
Carl practically, levitated, into a seated position, as if his whole body uncoiled in opposition to the bed and propelled him upwards without ever using his arms at all, as they were already actively reaching for the switch on the bedside lamp.
Light flooded the space, dispelling darkness in a small circumference. It wasn’t enough, though.
Jessica jerked into a semi-upright position, both hands planted in the mattress, her upper body twisted, hips and legs still left behind, frozen to the sheets.
“What’s wrong?” she sputtered, her brain automatically wanting to understand just, what had startled her awake in such rude fashion.
Carl ran around the bed, his cock shriveled with a primal fear as he scrambled to turn on the overhead light and find the offending pest. His hand stuttered back and forth, up and down, across the wall in search for a switch, that his muscle memory had not yet had the hundreds of repetitions necessary, to fully program his body to find in an instant.