Lost In Rewind (Audio Fools #3) (16 page)

She owns me … whoever the fuck she is.

I’m operating on autopilot as I remove the condom from my pocket. I’ve carried this hackneyed piece of rubber for over two years now. I only needed it for Sara, to make sure she never got pregnant while Jacky was alive, because I wouldn’t know how to tell Sara that I couldn’t leave my wife. But I loved Sara too much to stop dreaming about her, seeing her, making love to her, promising her a real life one day. I slip the condom on my dick before I change my mind and begin to remove her jeans. I fumble with her button as she grabs my impatient fingers to unbutton her pants herself. She slowly removes her tight jeans, leaving her underwear on and offering me another chance to stop.
I’m not stopping now.
This, us, is unstoppable.

My jeans are still around my knees as she moves to my feet in order to remove my shoes. I allow her to do whatever she wants, because I’m certain once I sink inside her, I’ll come in a minute flat. I haven’t been with a woman since Sara, and that was two fucking years ago, so unfortunately for Kali, this will definitely be a short, fast ride.

The sound of my shoes hitting the floor brings me back to the present, and I observe her delicate hands peel off my socks. She has her enticing ass on display for me as she proceeds to remove my jeans and Calvins in one hard pull. Her pussy is covered by a scrap of white material, and I can see it’s completely drenched.
I caused that.
I grab the string of her underwear as I move it over to feel exactly how wet she is. She freezes as she senses my fingers at her opening, but then moves backward, almost forcing my fingers inside her. Hot liquid coats my finger and my dick twitches in response. I come at her from behind, unable and unwilling to pretend anymore. I push into her with one long-awaited thrust, and forget my own stupid name. Her pussy welcomes me, opening for me, swallowing me slowly, inch by inch—just like I’ve imagined.

A moment in heaven and a lifetime in hell,
that’s the story of my life.

“
Dance Me To The End Of Love
” by Leonard Cohen

P
lease, God, don’t let this be a dream. Please, Dieu, make him real. I’ve never once asked for a boy or a man to be mine, except for right now. I’ve accepted every painful hurtle along the way, but I beg of you now, for this moment, for this man to be real.

He replaces his gentle fingers with his hardness and plunges into me like a bullet. Never before has a perfect stranger taken me to the emotional depths like Jeff just did. He didn’t even need to penetrate me for me to feel him inside. He pumps himself into me over and over while pressing almost painfully on my clit with his whole hand. I’m all feeling—there are no words that can describe my state of arousal, only sounds and movements. We are in sync every step as we fuse our bodies as one. I feel him reluctantly slow down while he harshly begins to rub my pubic bone with manic force. He’s jerking the orgasm out of me like an expert, and it only takes a few moments for me to go lax under him and moan out my release. I’ve never had a man provoke and incite my orgasm, and from now on, it’s the only kind I want. He gradually allows me to fall back down to Earth, and only then lets go of my clit to take hold of my hips and resume his own climb. It’s a frantic pursuit up until he desperately comes inside me with a loud roar.

It’s over. It’s done
.

We satisfied every last ounce of hunger we evoked in each other and now we’re both empty—nothing more to give.

I never understood how people, especially some of the college students who frequent the bar, could just meet a stranger and agree to have sex with them sans amour. I often asked myself why would someone want an empty one-night stand? But I now feel like a naïve bébé for thinking that way, because this, right now, is the closest I’ve ever been to a man in my whole life, and love had nothing to do with it.

I’m deep in my own thoughts, permitting my mind to catch up to my body and acknowledge what just took place in my bed, when I feel his warm touch as he grazes my flushed cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“I’m staying inside you forever,” are his first words to me after he’s no doubt ruined me for life.

“It will be hard for me to pee with you inside me.” I try to keep this light and funny, or it will be heavy and sad if I tell him how I really feel. I sense him smiling into my back, which sends cold shivers throughout my body. He’s still inside me as his shaft twitches and pulsates, ready to leave me.

“What the hell just happened?” he whispers, while playfully biting my ear.

Now that’s the right question to ask!

“I think we basically just fucked each other’s brains out,” I answer in all honesty.

“We didn’t fuck—fuck sounds dirty. We just had really good, fast, animalistic sex,” he defends our manic fucking with a hint of sarcasm as we both begin to laugh. “I’m serious, that was different than what I’m used to.”

I turn inside his embrace, releasing his hardness—which is no longer hard—to get a better look at his face, or more correctly, his eyes.

“It was nice, let’s just leave it at that. Are we still going to talk tonight? I feel myself drifting off.” Once again, I don’t understand what’s going on inside me. My body is restless and my mind is shooting a thousand feelings per second, but I sense myself contently floating away in his arms.

“Do you want me to stay in your bed, on the couch, or outside?”

I taste the almost subliminal longing in his question. I know he wants to stay in bed with me, and I want that, too.

“I want you to stay. I feel safe with you, for no good reason, but I’d like you to sleep with me anyway … if it’s okay with you?”

He cups my cheeks and gives me a kiss. Our eyes are wide open as we gaze into one another.

“Thank you,” he whispers between pecks. “By the way, I’m Jeffery Rossi. It’s nice to meet you, Kali.” I’m about to tell him my name too, but he continues kissing my sensitive lips, not giving me a chance to speak. “I’ll see you in the morning, beautiful girl, and hopefully, life will make sense again,” he mumbles into my mouth as I drift off into a peaceful slumber, cocooned in the arms of a stranger, who at this point in my life, feels like a hallucination. “Sweet dreams,” I hear his deep voice echo in my head as I shut the world off.

“
Hold On To The Night
” by Richard Marx

I
’m both euphoric and repulsed with myself as I watch my hand glide up and down Kali’s smooth body. She’s been asleep for hours, but I can’t succumb to my own fatigue. My mind won’t allow my body any form of elation after doing what I did with this innocent woman. She has no idea who she’s peacefully sleeping next to. She doesn’t know what I’m capable of. Before we had sex, I was prepared to tell her everything. I had it all worked out—I would tell her about Jacky and Sara, as it happened in history, but now, I can’t. I don’t want her to hate me the way I know she will. I don’t want her to look at me the way the world sees me—as a lying, cheating piece of shit opportunist. She doesn’t think I’m scum. She actually thinks I’m special. She’s under the impression that her grandmother chose me, and I wish more than anything that I was special.

But I know I’m not.

The thought of leaving Kali and going back home enters my mind every few minutes.
Run, leave her alone, do the right thing, be a man for once in your life.
My head attempts to reason with me, but I haven’t moved an inch. What does a young, pretty girl like her see in me anyway? All I see is anguish when I look at myself in the mirror; years of lying and nothing but heartache. I already recognize that everyone I touch pays the price of my sins, so why haven’t I stopped touching her? And why don’t I want to? Because I know exactly how this will all end, and I refuse to waste a single moment on sleep while I’m still allowed to touch her.

I haven’t stopped strategizing all night on how I plan to unravel my past without alienating this beautiful stranger that has aroused a part of me I gave up on long ago. The part of me I thought would forever die with Jacqueline; the part of me I then tried to disastrously keep alive with Sara. It’s the part of me I unconsciously gave to Joella that night fourteen years ago in exchange for knowing my future.

I catch myself dozing off with an image of Kali straddling me at daybreak and us having slow, sleepy, lazy sex lingers and surfaces in my mind, but I’m certain we only made love once, enough to sanction my delusions of her to materialize in dreams.

I open my eyes to a sun-flooded room, and to a far away hum haunting my mind that can only be explained as a requiem from my dream. I’m alone in a bed that seems much smaller than I remember lying down in last night. It’s just me, alone, with sheets wrapped around my naked body. There’s only one pillow, which is strange—didn’t Kali and I sleep here together? Did we both sleep on one pillow? I don’t even recall falling asleep.

“Kali,” I call out. I hope she didn’t leave. I spent all night practicing in my mind how I plan to tell her my backstory. I spent hours listening to my own words in my head just to make sure I don’t forget any crucial details, or sound like a heartless bastard. “Kali, who I still don’t know your last name, can you hear me?” I try to be funny, but I sound like a shmuck.

I spy my clothes neatly folded on a chair and I proceed to get dressed. I grab my underwear that Jacky bought me—come to think of it, she’d picked out
all
my clothes. I haven’t lived on my own since college, and back then, she helped me go clothes shopping, too. I miss my wife in everything I touch; even in the small, stupid, everyday things, I feel her absence.
She left me forever.

I notice it’s almost seven in the morning as I grab my phone on the nightstand that Kali must’ve plugged in to charge, and then dial my house. My daughter picks up before it even rings.

“Daddy, why are you not back yet? Yesterday Grandpa said you’re taking us to school today.” Her voice reminds me of how big of an asshole I am. Why did I leave them?

“Grandpa didn’t know my trip ran overtime and that I still need to finish talking to somebody before I come back home. Is everything okay? Is Jacob okay?” She’s quiet on the other end of the line, just sad at my absence. I can picture her unsmiling little disappointed face with her lips downcast in a frown—it’s Sara’s frown.
I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have left them.