Page 58 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

“You’re not afraid of me?” Maybe she thinks I’m a sucker. I was certainly sucked in by her two years ago.

“No. Should I be?” The hardness returns to her posture.

“If you fuck with my bandmates, yeah.” I want to climb into her bunk, pull down her pajama pants and fuck her. I don’t care if my bandmates come out of their bunks to watch. Let them see what a filthy mess I leave her when I’m done.

“I’m not,” she mutters. “You didn’t need to rip the curtain down.”

“Make sure it stays that way.” I shove away from her and storm into the bedroom. Golden might have been fucking with me... probably his way of getting payback... but he’s not wrong. I want to fuck her. I am going to fuck her. Maybe then I’ll be able to forget about her completely.

I pull my notepad from my back pocket and toss it on the desk before reaching for the stash of gummies I keep in a Pelican Micro Case with my bud since I can’t smoke on the bus. I take a couple.

Stripping out of my shirt, I pop the button on my jeans and flop down on my back on the bed. Placing one hand under my head, I rest a hand on my stomach and try to concentrate on my breathing. I need to relax if I’m going to shake this cunt of a headache.

It’s hard to relax when it’s killing me not to touch her. I want to wrap my hand around her throat while I fuck her to the edge of sanity. Drawing it all out like the sweetest possible torture.

I want her pussy rippling when she’s close, her whiney moans pleading with me to let her get off.

My cock turns to granite. Sticking my hand in my jeans, I wind my hand around it and take it out. I drag my hand up and down in an easy motion while I recall what she felt like on my fingers this morning. How sopping wet she’d been. How her skin carried a lingering trace of perfume, but the bathroom smelled of her arousal.

Pre-cum beads on the tip and coats my palm on the upstroke, lubricating my cock as I push into my fist until it meets my pelvis. God, what I would do with a piece of her around my cock. Her mouth, her pussy, her ass.

I stop long enough to open the bedside drawer and retrieve her stolen panties. These will do. And maybe after... I’ll give them back to her coated in my spunk and goad her into wearing them. I coil the lacy black panties around my fist. The material provides a new level of friction along the underside of my cock.

Fuck. I groan as I pick up the pace, fucking my hand while I fantasize about pounding all my hate into rough fucking her sweet pussy. My breath grows ragged. My stomach tightens. I coat my hand and her panties with hot spurts of my cum.

I use the lace to clean up when I’m done. I can hate her and fuck her. The two are not mutually exclusive. And she’s going to want it. She’s going to beg for it.

Better yet, I can use it to break her.

I carry her panties to the desk where I put them aside to flip through my notebook to the unfinished lyrics and rewrite them.

You’re the sweetest poison

I’ve ever pumped into my veins

I tried to quit you

But I have never been the same

Oh woman

It’s your turn to bleed for me

Your turn to shatter

Your turn to know how it feels

I’m going to rip your heart out

For the sweetest revenge

I shut off the light and lay back down, lighter and more relaxed now I’ve made the decision.

I’m going to need more ammunition if I’m going to destroy her. It’s a pity I haven’t had time to look through her memento box properly yet. No doubt it holds all her deepest secrets.

The next city where we stay the night off the bus, and I finally have privacy, I’ll have to retrieve it. See exactly what she’s hiding and then use it against her.

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