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‘Stay with us now,’ Elijah said. ‘Just stay.’
I didn’t need to ask him what I should do, or wait for anything anymore. I knew what to do and I knew what I wanted.
I knew what he meant when he said us.
I took off my underwear from under my skirt. My limbs felt swollen, twice their size. Elijah stared at my skirt, under where I was hairy. I felt joy, not pleasure. This was real, not a dream. The lights were on. I wanted to keep the lights on. I looked over in the mirror as Elijah slid his hands up my T-shirt. I saw the door open a crack. She was there, Gayl the Artist, with a video camera, clear black and glass.
As I straddled Elijah I got out of my bra but kept on my shirt. My purse was still on, the strap sucked tight to my chest.
‘I’m your slave,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll stay if you let me be your slave.’
Gayl was filming us through the crack in the door.
‘Take this off too,’ Elijah said, pulling my T-shirt away from my breasts.
‘No,’ I said. ‘It looks better with it on.’
I would be a collaborator. I would be the artist’s collaborator in my own porn.
Elijah started squeezing my breasts and moving them around. His face looked suddenly rocky, disturbed. Was this their plan the whole time? From Key West? To be their hot little actress? I placed my hands on the scummy tiles above Elijah’s head. I was scared for one second about my mother and my father, that they were going to find out what I was doing.
Gayl entered the bathroom. The video camera covered half of her face. Two braids touched her shoulders, her hair was unwound. I looked back at her and I tried to wink but I laughed instead. I saw a part of her mouth opening, the apple in her cheek. The video camera made the sound of a fan.
Elijah moved his robe to one side. His cock stood straight up.
‘She’s never done it before,’ Elijah said seriously, staring at Gayl’s camera. ‘She’s my horny little virgin slave.’
Elijah opened a drawer under the sink. There were three open boxes of rubbers in there. Elijah ripped open the corner of one with his teeth.
I was going to make people come without touching themselves.
The condom looked like it had saliva on it. Elijah played with the tip of it before rolling it over himself.
Somehow, right then, I knew the whole script. I knew the whole script of virginity.
‘I’m gonna be this girl’s first.’
I was ready to make-believe. Elijah looked at Gayl, right into the camera: ‘Don’t you want to be this girl’s first and break her cherry fucking hard?’
‘Yeah, an innocent virgin,’ Gayl finally spoke. ‘An innocent slut with an incredible body. Spread her thighs a little wider for the shot.’
‘Like this?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, that looks good. You can almost see her hymen stretch.’
I started to laugh.
‘See? Virgins love to fuck!’
Elijah had my waist hard and was guiding me down. I lowered myself, holding strong in my thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew how I looked.
‘Wait, slave. Open your eyes.’
I couldn’t open my eyes. Gayl was so close behind me I felt her breath on my back.
‘Fine, I got it. Go on, push her down. Hey, slave: open your eyes.’
I opened my eyes. A sharp pain ran through me. I gave myself all the way on Elijah. It hurt. It felt good. It didn’t hurt to feel good. I felt buzzing now in me. It was magical. The camera pinged. Elijah leaned all the way back to the wall so the crown of his head was touching the tiles. My hands held the sides of his arms and I bounced up and down. His neck was like mink. I moved around in a circle to try to feel even more.
