“Take my cock, you bitch!”
“Oooooh, fuck!”
His voice. That deep, hoarse tone always made my cheeks flush in heat. From the first moment I heard him speak, it was as if my ears had fallen in love. Even then, I wasn’t sure if my eyes fell for him first; surely it was a combination of the two.
“You like being fucked like a whore, don’t you?”
“Yes! Fuck the shit out of me with your big fat cock!”
Their voices were losing reverb, as I slowly eased out of a deep sleep, and opened my eyes.
The blonde was on all fours on the edge of the bed, submitting to the Alpha who took her from behind, using her body strictly for his own self-indulgent pleasure. He clutched her heart shaped bottom and rammed her with every powerful thrust, unrelenting, and unmerciful, making her breasts jiggle from impact.
Everything was moving in slow motion for me. It was the effect of the drugs that were still coursing through my system. I wanted to get up, but my body felt like a ton of bricks. Unlike the naked pair, I was still fully clothed; dressed in a mini skirt that was acid washed denim, and a white halter top.
“You’re such a good whore… such a good fucking whore…”
This is the part where the audience shakes their head in disgust, or mouths drop in shock, or some may even find the whole scene arousing and wish they were participating. However the reaction, I was desensitized to it. I knew Jay Conway inside out.
The man I loved was not a supernatural being. He was a tormented soul with unnatural desires. Though in moments like this, I could have sworn he became more animal than human. Jay had a constant need for consumption. I don’t mean food. This man hungered for things I couldn’t give him. I couldn’t shape shift and turn myself into a new lover every night. I couldn’t clone myself. I couldn’t handle his brutal ways in the bedroom. All I could give him… was freedom. Complete and unrestricted freedom.
Had he cheated on me? Was this my desperate attempt to keep him? No, and no. I was beautiful, confident, and intelligent. I could have had any guy I wanted. But I wanted him.
If I evaluate my feelings for him from a shallow perspective, Jay was the most devastatingly handsome man alive. His body was too perfect for descriptions. How could I possibly explain the extent of his attractiveness? No figurative comparison would do him justice. His allure was not only subjective to me, every woman desired him, and if not a woman, then every bisexual or gay man.
I watched all six foot two inches of him slam into the woman on our bed. He was completely in his element, in tune with the entire experience. But he caught me staring.
I could see him, somewhere in there, buried beneath glowing coals that burned like cinders in his dark marble eyes. Passion, pain, lust, love. He wasn’t burning alive. This was his transformative moment, like a liminal being; a phoenix set aflame and resurrected from its ashes. I knew that he couldn’t help himself. I was the only one who could help him. I had encouraged him to open Pandora’s Box, and now that he had… we couldn’t go back.
“Oh my God!” The woman moaned. “I’m so fuckin’ close!”
Jay grabbed a fistful of her locks and tugged it back aggressively, making her cry out in pain.
He wasn’t the gentle, sweet lover who held me in his arms at night, kissing me until I’d beg him to give his body to me. And even when he’d finally surrender and satisfy my desires, he wouldn’t have sex with me like this. He couldn’t. I had tried to connect with his darkest half, become best friends with him, offer my body to him as a sexual sacrifice, but he just couldn’t allow himself to go there with me. Jay was perfectly capable of disassociating love and sex—that woman he was fucking was a prime example. He wasn’t able to disconnect himself with me. He loved me too much to fuck me and use me as if I were a bitch in heat. He was incapable of subjecting me to humiliation and rough play. Jay couldn’t be merciless with me. He couldn’t call me a whore, tie me up and have his way with me. To cast me as the role of the harlot in his dark play of S&M was to forever destroy who I was at the core. He couldn’t corrupt my innocence, even though I felt I had none.
After all, I wasn’t a virgin when I met the man. My heart had been badly broken, and I’d been six months out of a messy divorce. I never expected to crash course into another relationship. I had just turned twenty-four when I’d met Jay. Pretty young to be a divorcee, right? That’s what happens when a girl has no father in her life to love her and make sure she doesn’t make stupid mistakes like the one I made at nineteen; four years of pledging my love to someone who had only lied to me from the get go for personal gain. What did he possibly gain? Too much. But that’s another story I won’t open up right now. That woman’s incessant moaning was too distracting for introspection.
“You have no idea how good your cock feels in my pussy!”
I watched the way her eyes rolled back, as the cellulite around her thighs jiggled, the harder he pounded. She wasn’t overweight, but she wasn’t toned. Not like I was.
During moments like this, Jay could never look me in the eye longer than three seconds. Not while he was screwing these bimbos. He had a routine; a ritual of a sort whenever we’d share our bed with another. Jay had rules that he followed and never broke. For starters, he never kissed the women he slept with, never went down on them, and the only sexual position that got him off, was ramming them from behind either through vaginal or anal intercourse. He didn’t like to look at them. It felt too “intimate.” He always used a condom, even though he didn’t have to. When he was twenty-five, he had already got a vasectomy because he knew for certain that he didn’t want to be a father. He was always clear about his rules and told his willing participants what they could and couldn’t do. The list of all the “don’ts” was always longer than the “do’s.” They were not allowed to touch him, at all. If they did, it was game over. Imagine a wolf mounting its mate, fulfilling what he biologically is compelled to do, and then once the primal act is over, he trots off and goes about his normal business. Well, that’s exactly what happened when Jay would have sex with these random women. They were objectified as animals, not human beings with complex emotions. That woman was a static, one dimensional character, while my protagonist who believed he was the antagonist in my story, was the most complex, dynamic, and intriguing character ever. I use this metaphor because I’m a writer.
“Oh God, yes! Fuck my ass!”
I watched him pull out and alternate between entry holes. If he was planning to shove it back into her pussy again, then the risk of a UTI was sure to follow (for her, of course). Any sensible woman is wise enough to know that you do not alternate between “exit and entry points” while having sex. Pornography glorifies the act. But real life is so far from what the “professionals” on porn sets portray as the ultimate sexual experience.
Jay would often engage in the roughest anal sex I had ever seen with other women. I was convinced he had a fetish for it, and even though I had offered to try with him, he could never bring himself to “violate” me and “defile” my body. As he said, “whores are whores who deserve to be fucked like whores,” and I was far from the very vile thing he desired.
Beyond closed doors, all our friends thought we were the perfect couple, like the perfect celebrity pairing debuted on an issue of “Vanity Fair.” I knew I was an attractive woman, but being in his presence sometimes made me feel insecure, because he was so perfect. It just wasn’t natural. Sure, there were scars on his body, war wounds, but I was blind to the flaws. Every time I touched his scars, all I could think about was his strength and bravery. I felt an overwhelming sense of pride in him, which was the biggest contradiction because what woman in their right mind would be proud of her man if he desired to sleep with other women? It’s complicated, but I promise to enlighten you.
We had only been dating a year, and from the beginning of our relationship, Jay was always romantic, soft spoken, and charming around me. In the eyes of all our friends and family, he represented the ideal boyfriend and life partner. But no one knew about the other man that existed behind his masked morality. They were oblivious to his darkness. That’s what he called it at first when I helped him open up one evening. I was excellent at studying people, and throughout the first six months of us being together, I had studied him very carefully.
“Ahhh, slow down!” Blondie screamed.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch! Take it, slut! Take my cock!”
He yanked her hair back like a leash, as I watched in secret arousal. That look on his face he would get whenever he’d cum… it was so hot.
She moaned, Jay growled, speeding up… And soon the scandal was over. Her body was still convulsing while she lay on her stomach, winding down from what appeared to be an amazing orgasm he’d given her.
I got out of bed in silence and felt his eyes follow me when I walked past him.
“Mmmm, baby,” said the woman (I think her name was Jill?) “You have got to be the biggest cock I’ve ever had!”
“Get dressed and get out.” There was no emotion in his voice.
“Awww, don’t you want to have a little more fun with me?” She giggled in the most obnoxious manner.
“I told you the rules. Pack your shit up and leave.”
There was a pause, and I felt this uncomfortable anxiety creep up on me.
“You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that?” Jill sounded irritated. And then she started shouting loud enough so that I would hear. “How the fuck can you stay with a jerk like him!”
“I won’t tell you again!” he raged.
This wasn’t good. I had to step in and mediate. But just as I got out, I saw my boyfriend take her clothes and shoes, open the door of our hotel suite, and toss the items carelessly down the hall like trash.
Jill looked mortified. She walked toward him and stopped by the doorway. “Get bent.” Her scornful eyes found mine. “Both of you!”
The door slammed shut, making me jump.
Jay released a lengthy sigh and pressed his thumb and index to his temples. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.
Quietly, I retraced my steps into the bathroom, giving no commentary.
I ran my fingers through my long chestnut locks, and noticed that my sapphire eyes looked lifeless. My face was gaunt and my collar bones were a little too defined.
Am I going underweight again? I panicked, hoping that I wasn’t slipping into old habits.
“Maya.” Jay appeared behind me as I looked at him through the mirror. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You don’t have to apologize every time.”
“I don’t like it when they interact with you.”
“I know.”
“Besides”—he stepped closer—“she was disrespecting you.”
Her allegations were reasonable. Had anyone else been in her skin, I’m sure they would have given him an earful as well.
Jay hadn’t touched me that night. I didn’t have sex with either of them, nor did he initiate sex with me. It was literally just the two of them going at it like rabbits on and off for the past two hours while I was passed out.
The reason why I had nodded off is because I had taken a few hits of pot from a bong at the party we were at earlier. Something else must have been laced in the cannabis, because I was hearing things, everything seemed wobbly and slow, and I was so fatigued.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“No, not really.”
“You’re just… so quiet.”
I tried to smile, still speaking to him through the reflective glass. “I’m fine.”
Every time I looked at this man I felt heartbroken because I was hopelessly in love and unable to save him. There was a reason why he was the way he was. Very few people could understand, but I understood.
“I’m going to take a shower, baby.”
Of course. This was always part of his routine. Wash the “dirt” away, after the deed was done. He wouldn’t kiss or touch me until he felt clean.
Something twisted in the pit of my stomach. I desired him so much, and I wanted so badly to make him happy and be everything that he needed.
Why can’t he just let me in? I asked myself, tears misting my eyes.
The showerhead turned on and I left the bathroom shortly after, because I knew he wouldn’t let me shower with him. Not until he would “wash the sin” off his body.
~oOo~
I was ripped away from my dreams yet again when I felt my weight being pulled toward a warm chest. I could smell the fragrant smell of shampoo and shower gel.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” Jay whispered.
“It’s okay,” I murmured.
“My chest feels lonely without you.”
Those soft spoken words… right on time.
“I don’t know how to live without you, Maya.”
“You’d survive.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I never knew what love was until I met you. You know this.” He kissed my shoulder and caressed my hip. “You’re upset with me, aren’t you? You know she meant nothing, sweetie.”
“I know.” I turned around and touched his face. “You don’t have to be worried. I’m not mad or jealous or anything.”
“I can stop this. It’s not important.”
“I love you unconditionally. I want to make you happy. I just wish you could try this with me.”
“Absolutely not.” He frowned. “Babe, you’ve seen for yourself how intensely rough I get. There’s no way in hell I’m going to use you like that.”
“It wouldn’t be using. You love me.”
Jay gently moved my hand away and threw his legs over the edge of the bed to sit up. He hung his head down and released a defeated sigh. “I wish I wasn’t like this. I wish I didn’t have these desires. I’m the most fucked up man in the world. You should leave me.”
I couldn’t. I loved him too much to give up. I sat behind him and hugged his body, placing a kiss on his muscular back.
“You don’t deserve this,” he said. “I never should have let you convince me to do this. I hate myself. I hate that I get off from this shit.”
By “this” he meant the hard-core fuck sessions with random women.
“Jay, baby, we’ve been through this before. It’s not your fault—he had abused you.”
My boyfriend carried a shameful secret with him, and he had never shared it with another soul, except me. He was a victim of abuse at the hands of his father. That sick bastard had done horrors to him too sick and too disturbing to discuss in detail. All I could say was that no child should have lived through what Jay lived through for ten years of his life.
“I’m sick in the head, Maya.”
“You’re not.”
He twisted his body and met my eyes. Those burning coals were no longer glowing. I shifted myself onto his lap and sat astride, facing him.
Everything about Jay was dominantly sexual. I snaked my arms around his neck and teased his lips, kissing him deeply because I knew he needed my affection. Within seconds, his erection was throbbing beneath me, making my temperature rise. He was an amazing kisser, and I loved the fact that those lips were always reserved just for me, nobody else. The only thing I had in common with those women was that we both experienced different parts of him. His gentle, loving, and nurturing nature was expressed only to me. And his wild, rough, sadistic urges were reserved for women who meant absolutely nothing to him. This was the pattern.
“I want you,” I breathed against his lips, and instantly, I was flipped on my back, my dark hair sprawled out on the pillow. He moved above me, and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, as I watched him take off his boxer briefs, slide down my thong, and lower himself in between my thighs.
“I fucking love you so much,” Jay whispered, giving me a lengthy kiss before he reached down below and penetrated me.
His stamina was unbelievable. He was like a sex-bot. Maybe these traits were all part of his evolution, but I knew better. There was a reason why he was so sexual. Just because I helped him understand its origin, didn’t mean that he could stop it or cure it.
I wrapped my legs around his V-shaped waist, and invited him deeper inside. His body felt like heaven, even though he despised it at times. I loved the way he made love to me. It was such a huge contrast between how he had sex with others.
He kept his rhythm slow and gentle, giving me deep, long strokes. I was a delicate flower and he wanted me to blossom for him, always, just for him.
After a month of enabling him to indulge in his desires, I thought I would try a little experiment of my own.
“Harder,” I gently demanded.
Jay looked into my eyes with uncertainty.
“Give it to me harder, please,” I communicated in between shallow breaths.
He gave me one powerful thrust and I almost exploded with pleasure. But I knew he could be rougher than that. Much rougher.
“Faster.”
“Maya—” He stopped altogether.
“Please.” I licked his lips, grinding myself on his throbbing shaft.
“Baby, you know I can’t—”
“Just a little faster, please,” I continued to beg.
Jay looked so anxious and worried, staring at me as if I were encouraging him to jump off a cliff.
My body moved up and down against the mattress as he began to penetrate me again, starting slow and gradually increasing speed. I loved the way every muscle in his arms and torso tensed up. It was the hottest view ever. He took good care of his body, and I was always appreciative.
“Fuck me… fuck me harder… beat my pussy up!”
“Maya…”
I could have sworn I saw something glow in his eyes. He wasn’t alone in this experience with me. Someone else was very much present. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. Jay kept that window open for me, and only for me, but even when that gateway was unlocked, it left him vulnerable. I had access to all parts of him, and he trusted me enough to not resurrect that darker half that he hid beneath a coffin of coal.
“You know you want to.” I bit his bottom lip, pressing my palm against his heart. It was beating erratically. I had successfully made contact, and he was desperately trying to break that connection.
Jay slowed down. “Don’t go there, baby.”
I wouldn’t give up.
“You know you want to fuck the fuck out of me—bend me over and just shove all your inches up my ass… Fuck me like a whore.”
The coals were burning brightly, the most brilliant orange I had ever seen, as a fist pushed through the surface, exposing a muscular arm.
“Stop it!”
“Pound my cunt until I’m sore, and then ram it up my ass and punish me!” I slapped him across the face. “Come on!” Another slap. “Be a man and do it! Take what you want!” I was about to assault him again, when he caught my wrist and overpowered me.
Jay pinned my arms back over my head, staring into my eyes with fierce intensity. “I will not do this with you!”
I breathed out sharply when I felt his length pull out of me and disappear into the bathroom.
Thirty seconds later, all I could hear was, “Fuck… fuuuuuuuck!” And then a pleasurable groan of relief. The toilet flushed, and the sound of running water filled my ears. He had abandoned me in bed for a minute to go and relieve himself.
Feeling disappointed, I turned on the bedside lamp and sat up, wrapping the sheets around my naked body. When Jay finally returned, he met my gaze with haunted eyes and said, “Why would you do that to me?”
I guess he felt as if I had broken his trust.
“Jay, I just—”
“Don’t ever do that again, Maya. Never.”
“Why can’t you just give it a shot with me?”
“Because!” He snapped. “I’ve already been through this with you, I won’t fucking repeat myself!”
“You’re deliberately depriving yourself! I love you! This could be a healing experience if you would just try it with me!”
“There’s nothing but damage if I do this with you! How can you be so blind to that! There are no grey areas in this. It’s either black or white! I’ve already told you how fucked up I am, if you can’t handle it then leave!”
I let his words sink in before I got up and strode past him.
“Maya… Maya, wait! I wasn’t serious, I—”
I locked myself in the bathroom and started to sob in silence. He was right. What had I been thinking?
“Baby, let me in.” Jay stood behind the door. “Please, you know how I get when you put barriers between us. It makes me crazy.”
I could sense that he was on edge and borderline panicking. He often had panic attacks. The panic episodes happened ever since his mother died last year. His sister committed suicide six months after, which only worsened his condition.
“Maya, please!” He pounded on the door.
It wasn’t easy loving someone who was manically depressed.
“Fuck, I’m… it’s happening again!”
He was having another attack. Immediately, I opened the door and took his hand, leading him onto the balcony. “Okay, just sit down and breathe. Listen to my voice.”
Jay sat on a lounge chair, breathing really hard and fast. His knee kept bouncing up and down, and he couldn’t find a sense of calmness.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” I crouched and held his face. “You’re all right. Nothing dangerous is happening to you, and nothing will harm you. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
There were tears in his eyes, as he struggled to measure his breaths. “You… you w-were g-g-going… t-to leave.”
“No.” I felt so sad for him. The man who presented himself so confidently to the world was crumbling right before my eyes. He was in pieces. We both had abandonment issues.
“Jay, I love you. I’m not leaving.” I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him close, comforting him until the panic subsided. I’d pushed him too far. He wasn’t ready to let me love the darkest part of him; the man who remained faceless
