Eventually, she moans and rolls her hips.
I feel nothing.
Not even anger.
There is only coldness in me.
Coldness like death.
I just repeat what I do.
Lick.
Suck.
Fuck.
And then, she comes.
She squirts all over my face and finally lets go of me.
The moment she does, I get up like a robot.
I take my coat.
Walk outside.
And the moment I am on the sidewalk, I vomit.
The smell of her. It is the most disgusting thing I have ever smelled.
I wipe the fluid from my face and the vomit from my lips. I get into my car and drive on autopilot. When I reach my garage, my hands shake like crazy.
I get up into my studio, slip without undressing into the shower, and let the water run over me for what could be hours. I scrub myself five times, all over, before I can get out of the dress and shoes. Then I scrub myself again until my skin is red and peels.
I get out of the shower, brush my teeth several times, throw the brush head away, and get a new one from the drawer to brush again.
When I am done, I finally smell like myself again.
I lean on the vanity top. My fingertips dig painfully into the surface as I stare at myself in the mirror.
My hands tremble.
A feeling tries to crawl up on me. A feeling of being a failure. A worthless?—
“No!” I shout at myself to stop the feeling, the thought. “Stop it right there. You don’t go there.”
So I don’t.
I swallow down.
The anger in my chest and the hollow sensation in my stomach disappear.
I draw back my shoulders.
My head twitches briefly.
And I am back to my baseline of cold and calculating.
