SEXY ROMANCE: Her Dark Obsession (6 page)

For the next week, I kept Alan close in my heart.  I giggled at his text messages.  I cooed when he shared his romantic fantasies; little tidbits about taking me to Europe, to Australia, to meet some of his extended family…and of course, experience a world away from home. 

I even texted him at night, every night, before I went to sleep.  I remember being dressed in my white pajamas, a white t-shirt and rose-colored pants.  Not sexy at all, but feeling cozy, like something close to a married woman.  Some day, if and when we both finally got the nerve to say Yes to each other, to say yes to each other, forever.  I texted him and he texted me.  We teased each other about which one of us would go to sleep first.

Suddenly, a firm knock sounded throughout my apartment.

“Who is it?” I asked to the door.

“It’s Brody.”

“What do you want?”

“I just…I want to apologize.”

“Really?  For what?”

“Do you really want me to apologize through a keyhole?”

I opened the door, a bit reluctantly.  “What do you want?”

“Why so defensive?  You make me feel like a psycho.”

“Maybe you are.  So what’s the apology?”

“I just felt bad about the way we left things,” he said, coming inside after I opened the door slightly.  “I always wanted this game to be about you.  About you finding yourself and what you want.  I’m ultimately a philanthropist.  I want to help people.”

“Uh…huh,” I said, furling my brow.

“It’s true.  And I think I overstepped my bounds with the auction thing.  I made you feel cheap.  And for that I apologize.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I sighed.  “It was my decision.  And I was happy with my decision.  In fact, I met the perfect guy since I left all that behind.”

“Oh?  What’s his name?”

“His name is…you know,” I said, interrupting my own sentence.  “It doesn’t matter.  Because my life is now closed to you.  You’re not in it, at all.”

“You can’t even tell me his name?” Brody said, looking around the room and analyzing—no, evaluating my lifestyle. 

“Fine, his name is Alan.  What does it matter?”

“Oh.”  Brody nodded and looked at a magazine I had laying on the kitchen counter.  “Sounds very classy.”

“You know, he is classy, and…”  I started to turn around to meet Brody’s face.

But I was very quickly subdued by two pairs of strong hands.  He wrapped his hands around my waist then lowering one down to my pelvis. 

“Hey!”

“But what about your mission?  Your mission of Yes?  Have you decided to quit, yet?  Or are you still saying yes to new opportunity?”

He began kissing the back of my neck, still keeping his hands gripped around my waist.  “Because I want you, Regina.  I want you _____ _____ (My real name).  I don’t know when it happened…but I’m obsessed with you.  You’re all I think about.”

He slowly slid his hand into my pants and down to my thong.  He quickly found my curious clit, swelling at the sound of his voice, and his words—which were music to my ears, though I hated myself for it.  “I need you.  You can’t tell me you don’t feel something.  The sparks between us.  It’s real, isn’t it?”

His fingers went lower and began entering my moist pussy.  “Aahh…” I sighed, flinching, panicking slightly.  What the hell am I doing?  I know what he’s doing.  I knew it from the moment he knocked on my door.  But why haven’t I screamed and tossed him the hell out of here?’

“I don’t want anything special from you.  Just like you don’t want to break your ‘serious relationship’ with Alan.  But I crave your body.  I want to make love to you.”

He put his other hand up my t-shirt and grabbed my breasts, rubbing my sensitive nipples until they were taut.  “Oh God…what am I doing…”

“What are you doing?  Tell me to stop, Regina.  Tell me I need to go.”

Just as he said that, he began unbuttoning and unzipping his black pants.  Every sound, every tweak, began making my heart pound.  I was excited.  So illicitly excited.  I did want Brody.  I wanted him so bad when I first met him, and the bastard rejected me. 

“Oh God…” I sighed, feeling his long cock touch my ass, softly, curiously touching my goosebumpy skin. 

“Tell me that you love him, Regina.  Oh wait…it’s not that serious, is it?”

He pulled my pants down and began kissing my ass, licking my hole and my labia just the way Alan did that made me so hot.  Oh God, it felt good.  It felt wonderfully the same and yet different.  “I…I…”  I struggled to get the words out.  Leave.  I don’t want to do this. 

“What’s the matter?” he said in that pretentious and downright evil voice.  “If you’re really in love, Regina, then don’t you want one last fling before the wedding?”

“Huhhh…” I groaned, my back arching and my whole body quivering with excitement.  “Because I promise you this.  Marriage is long.  And the best sex of your life will always be behind you.  Maybe it’s time you get all of this out of your system.”

“No…”

“No what…”

“I don’t want you,” I said, meaning it, but by juices flowing and my legs spreading…more than ready to fit his huge cock inside of me.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I love Alan…Ahhhh!” I screamed as he penetrated me. 

“Oh?  You going to marry him?  Have babies and all that regular relationship shit?”

“Uhhhh huhhh!” I screamed as he began thrusting harder, filling me up with his huge erection and fingering my aching clit at the same time. 

“How romantic.”

“Uhnnnghh!” I said, followed by a series of pants.  “Please…don’t make me do this.”

“I’m not making you do anything, Regina,” he said, as he used his free hand to pinch my hard nipple.  “This has all been your choice.  Whether to say yes or no.  So for god’s sakes…say no and mean it.  Before…I…”

His breathing accelerated and he started grunting.  “Come inside you.  And ruin your entire life.”

It was too much, hating myself profusely and apologizing to my ceiling, I came hard all over his rod, spilling juices all over him and trembling in a full body orgasm.  I came so hard I remember pounding on the goddamned kitchen counter, so angry at myself…and so unbelievably turned on by the sickening experience.

“No… please…don’t come inside of me.  Please don’t…”

He grabbed my face and turned me backward to look at him—look into his eyes.  His rigid member started to swell and shake.  Like a “gentleman” he granted my wish and withdrew his massive hard-on, turning me around and ejaculating all over my quaking stomach.

“Mmmmnnn!” he grunted hard, stroking himself and making sure every drop connected on my flushing skin.

“Oh God…oh Jesus…” I said, my stomach reaching into my throat with nerves.  I couldn’t even look at him.  I couldn’t even stand up and remove myself from the counter.  I just leaned over, like a corpse, totally drained of all willpower, and disgusted at myself.  Why bother getting up.  Why bother fixing my appearance.  Why even bother showing Brody out.

He took his time zipping up and rubbing it in.  “Now then.  I’ll leave you to your happy marriage.  Don’t you ever call me again.  Because I’ve had enough of you.”

              I didn’t bother replying, but only listened as Brody left my apartment and slammed the door. I leaned over, oh God, still drenched in his sperm.  I felt gross.  I felt dirty.  And just when I thought I couldn’t feel any more like a cheap whore…

              My phone beeped, telling me I got another romantic text message from him.  The man.  The man whose name I was not worthy to speak.

**

July

“You’ve been avoiding me.  My calls, everything…” he said, finally having reached me on the phone after two weeks of completely avoiding his voice and face.

“Yeah,” I sighed.  “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry.  But what’s up?”

“I don’t know.  Stuff, I guess.”

“Problems…with us?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“But…what did I do?”  His voice became so soft, slowing inching towards “hurt”, the one tinge I never wanted to hear from him.  “I mean I wasn’t too pushy.  I let you have your space…”

“It’s me, okay?  It’s not you.  It’s…”

“It’s you?  It’s you, as in, what?  You want to date other people?  I mean, let’s be adult about this, Regina.  It’s not high school anymore.”

“As in…I’ve already…dated other people.”  I shut my eyes in shame.  My instincts told me to lie to him.  Just the same as all the other men seemed to do, and seemed to get away with so easily.  But no, even my mission of Yes, would not allow me to be so cruel.

“So…you cheated?”

I suddenly became defensive.  “We weren’t married, you know.  I mean…don’t make this a big deal.  We were just casually dating, anyway.”

“Right.  But even though, we agreed we wanted to be exclusive.”

“After what, a few dates?  And this just jump into some serious relationship?  Come on.”

“So what happened, did you just bump into some guy and have sex?  Was the fire really that consuming?  You couldn’t keep it in your pants for like, ten hours?”

“Fuck you,” I said harshly.  “You know, we could just end this.  Right now.  And never see each other again,” I said, stupidly, knowing full well I wanted him to forgive me.  I wanted him to fight for me.

“Yeah…I guess that makes sense.  I mean…I’m a little naïve, but I’m not an idiot.”

“What, so that’s it?  Just because I had one affair?  One ‘affair’ even though we’re not like, married or even engaged?”

Alan laughed, still a teary voice, but one now understandably filled with ambivalence.  “No offense, kid.  You’re just a little too…slutty for me.”

“Oh!” I cackled into the phone.  “Slut-shaming me?  Really?  That’s rich.  I love it how guys are always allowed to do whatever the hell they want because they’re just guys and are horny.  But as soon as a girl does it, then she’s a slut.  She’s the town whore.  That’s how it works, right?  Isn’t that the real issue here?”

“Nah,” Alan said, his emotions removed from the conversation.  “The difference is…not all guys are like that.”  He paused and I remained speechless.  “There’s a lot of guys…a whole goddamned population of us that don’t cheat.  That don’t lie.  That don’t do all this shit you’re talking about.”  He finally let his rage show.  “So don’t try to say we’re all the same.  Cause we’re not.”

After another long pause he gave up.  “Goodbye, Regina.  Or whatever the hell your real name is.”

I couldn’t even hang up the phone.  I started bawling right then and there.  Whatever my mission was, it wasn’t this.  It wasn’t to hurt people.  It was only to give people what they wanted, and to allow myself new opportunity.  But true to Brody’s word, this was my lowest point.  My spiritual plunge into the bottom of the ocean.  The mission had failed.

**

After this traumatic event, I allowed myself nothing but scourging and shaming.  I was undeserving of anything better.  I was slutty and I was slut-shaming myself.  Because I drove away probably the best man I ever met in my entire life, just because I acted…not like a man, but like a weak man.  I was even lower than Edgar, because at least that cheating Irishman was “honest.”  The adult in me, should have at least told Alan that I wasn’t ready to commit.  That I was still “horny” to put it in a man’s vocabulary and wasn’t grow up enough to deserve him.

Nevertheless, after a solid of week of hating myself, I decided to get the hell out of the house and just say yes.  Just say yes and punish myself for being so stupid. 

I decided to get dolled up in my favorite pushup bra and squeeze into a backless, sleeveless bandage dress.  I even curled my hair and walked around the crowded downtown district, intent on seducing someone that night.  Little did I realize that women in the downtown area dress conservatively, and on purpose, so as not to be accidentally labeled as a Lady of the Night.  When you’re in such a desperate part of town, you only have one of two messages: Yes or No. 

Being a Yes girl and showing ample cleavage seemed to attract a certain type of gentleman. 

Besides from an entire night of leers, shy flirting and happy acknowledgements—for no other reason than to get a closer look at my boobs—I received an indecent proposal from a young guy who thought I was dressed far too sexy to be just an independent woman proud of her peaking sexuality.

“Hi,” he said with a good-natured smile.  He looked to be about 22, and dressed in suit pants and a formal shirt.  His eyes were dark and his face confident, just a little conceited, as if he had dad’s credit card and no limitations on balance.  

“Hey,” I said, smirking in his direction, letting him know I needed just a little coddling to get heated up.

“Umm…you’re pretty.”

“Thanks, that’s sweet,” I said with a cautious sneer.  Typical nice guy, right?

“How much do you charge?”

“Excuse me?” I said, flinching and dropping my mouth wide open. 

“Oh, sorry.  Am I not supposed to ask that for legal reasons?”  He laughed nervously.  “What I meant to say was, price is not an issue.  I just want an ESCORT for the night.”  He winked.