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Cece is restless and needy. She whines and clings. It’s almost as if she doesn’t feel safe. Like me. I don’t know how to handle her. I have no soothing words, my own anxiousness too pressing to just wave hers off. The worldisa horrible place and I just can’t lie. So I sing to her about fairies and princesses, rainbows and daisies, hoping to distract. And finally she falls asleep in my arms. Two hours later than usual. I whisper in her ear to not let the bedbugs bite and cover her up with the blanket.
I virtually stumble to the bathroom and start filling the tub with hot water. The heater almost makes a full tub. Almost, but it’s good enough. Bath foam covers the rest and gives the impression of luxury. Groaning, I lower myself carefully into the near scalding content. I have to take shallow rapid breaths and steel myself from the pain, but once I’m submerged, the heat penetrates my body and calms me.
It’s cathartic.
The water makes me weightless, free, another me. I wish I lived by the sea. I’ve always lived by the sea, and I miss it. But I was another Kerry then. Someone ripped it from me,
I lather my shoulders and arms. Then I let my hands slide down slick skin, past my breasts, my belly, hips, thighs, bending my legs I allow my hands to slide over thin knees and shins.
On the way back up, I stop at the patch of hair between my legs and let my palm slide down to cover my mound, my fingers touching the soft, silky folds. It’s been so long since I was with a man. Since I was withhim.
Despite the hurt, the betrayal, the fear of knowing I was about to die by his hands, my body still reacts to the mere thought of Christian. That first night, when I went with him, drunk, but notthatdrunk, something about him made me trust him, and he proved me right. And devastatingly wrong.
I caress along my slit, touching my clit, circling it, back down, push a finger inside, think of his thick cock as he ravages me, robbing me of every ounce of sanity and ability to make decisions. We made Cecilia. He came in me. Over and over. I was so taken, so overwhelmed that I didn’t think. I’m a grown-ass woman, but I was so lost in his caresses and demands.
Rubbing faster, I push more fingers inside, almost feeling him in me, his weight on me. I’m not even sure that night was fully consensual on my part. He took and took, held me down, demanded responses out of my body I never knew it could perform.
I know why I’m obsessing over him. There are so many factors, but two stand out in white-hot light: he made me feel more than I’ve felt for any man in my life, more than I expect to ever feel again, then he tried to take my life. Christian really truly meant to murder me. I know he hesitated, but it was there, I could never have convinced him not to, it was just a slight hesitation, but if I hadn’t fought back, I would have died.
Those two things combined have etched him into my very core. It’s been two years and he still burns brightly in me.
I almost feel him, he’s almost with me, hot, dark, demanding. My body tenses as my pussy spasms in an empty unsatisfactory release.
How can I miss him so much?
A small black bug, slowly making its way across the white panels on the wall, catches my attention.
Hey there. It’s winter soon. Aren’t you a little lost?
But then again, aren’t we all?
Christian
The girl giggles and stumbles on too-high heels, gets her face in order, pouts her lips in an attempt to look seductive, then back to giggling again. She can’t be more than twenty or twenty-one, and suddenly I feel much too old.
I hoist her up on my shoulder the last few feet to my room. Cherry giggles again. The noise grates on my ears. I think of a soft, intelligent voice, words of compassion for her work and her protégés.
Dumping her on the bed, I spin her over on her belly.
“Don’t move.”
She turns her face to me, her eyes are glossed over. With lust. Drunkenness. I don’t know. I don’t care. I need a release. I need someone, and I’ll never have that connection again, the one I had with Ker. I might as well try to go back to the way I used to live my life; meaningless brief meetings.
Somewhat violent.
Opening my bag, I pull out duct tape and ropes I had prepared for Mrs. Davenport. Ripping off a piece of the tape, I put it right over the lush, red lips of Cherry, silencing her effectively. Her eyes widen and she moans her objections as I make quick work with the ropes. My pants tighten, but I don’t see Cherry, I see a soft heart-shaped face, big deep green eyes and long, amazing red hair, her locks spread over her pillow as I fuck her hard, making her cry when I make her come.
“I’m gonna fuck you, Kerry. I’m gonna fuck you so hard. Now be a good girl and don’t move.”
Taking off her high-heeled sandals, I then pull down her tight leather pants and lacy panties in one swift move. She’s got a trim butt, clearly she’s working out a lot. I don’t like her narrow hips. I can’t quite hold them. Kerry is slim, but she has good, wide hips, made for carrying a child.
I dart up off the bed and stare at the half-naked, squirming young woman.
Kerry, Cecilia.
Well, I’ll never see them again, will I?
Putting my palm to her ass, I caress her, making her shudder, then I lift my arm and bear down on her pale skin, making it blossom instantly. She screams into her gag and tries to escape. I grip around her excuse for hips, catching her, and then I swat her again, and again, mottling her skin, making it stop-light red.
