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Well, we went together to prom and were King and Queen. As Mother had mentioned, we had been through a lot and had created good memories from them too. But meeting him after medical school, it felt like he was a different person entirely.
No…he wasn't a different person entirely. The only person that changed was me.
Because of my encounter with Ethan and finally being able to associate with lower class members - and even working with the maids - I learned humility among other traits. Lawrence, with no one to teach him and his lack of interest in learning gradually became rotten on the inside.
Now back to my parents. Judging from the look my mother gave me and how she begged me to make sure this worked out, there was something going on. I knew there was, but something told me that it would be something that they couldn't handle with normal means. And if my parents couldn't handle it, I would never be able to do it on my own. The only option available was simple: force myself to fall in love with Lawrence. This would mean purging myself of whatever strand of emotion I had felt toward Ian.
A difficult decision.
****
I woke up feeling odd. The night before, I had a dream about Ian. About our first night together.
I wanted to recreate the memory. I covered my face with one of my pillows to restrict my vision.
I touched my pussy, and it was already dewy. I remembered how his fingers felt but mine were too delicate and small to recreate the feeling.
Three fingers were enough to do the job. I started to rub, but it was nothing compared to what Ian had done to me…but it would have to do. I started to massage aggressively. I bit my lower lip as my right hand captured my breast, squeezing gently.
My nipples were already stiff, so I licked my right hand fingers and pinched them to imagine it was his mouth capturing my tips, biting down to make sure I felt good. I wondered what kind of face he made when he did all these things to me. Did he look pleased? Or did he look at me as if he saw a slut?
The mystery of what his face looked like made the entire process get better. I continued masturbating, touching myself aggressively and even at one point, feeding my own juices to myself. Was I tasty when he ate me out? Did he just put up with the taste? I still didn't have a dildo, so I couldn't recreate the essence of having him inside me. Instead, I shoved two of my fingers inside myself and started moving them.
"Ian…Ian… Ian…" I called his name repeatedly, in hopes that he would appear and take control, but he never did.
I stopped. I took the pillow off my face and sat upright.
"What exactly am I doing?" I asked myself as I stared at my fingers.
If I was going to miss him this much, them why did I act out back then? Maybe I should just call him, apologize, and start all over again. My phone chirped. No one had texted me since I got back. Could it be? Was Ian reaching out to me? I checked my phone and my excitement faded away almost immediately. It was Lawrence.
We'll be meeting a lot to get things in proper motion. Looking forward to your corporation.
You spelled cooperation wrong,I texted back, smugly
"As long as you get the message," he responded. "Don't keep me waiting."
I frowned.
****
"I know you and Ian were involved," Lawrence revealed.
We went for a wine tasting, organized by a mutual friend.
"What are your talking about this time?" I asked.
"No need to act dumb. Like I said the last time, I know a sex game when I see one. And it was easy to deduce who you were spending time with, because Ethan was out of the country," he replied. "But I'm sure you didn't know that."
"So, if I was involved with him, why tell me? Aren't I with you right now?" I asked.
"I just want you to remember that you need to make this relationship work. I can't have you thinking about anyone else but me," he warned. "We promised your parents you'd give your all. And I want all of it."
I didn't say anything, just took a sip of the wine.
As the weeks followed, I tried my best to see myself as the potential bride he desired, but it wasn't working. We went on several dates, and he bought me a lot of things; but in my eyes, it didn't feel anything more than the usual two friends hanging out with each other.
There was one difference, though. The kisses. He kissed my neck several times, and most times, he went for my lips. I remained motionless and let him do what he wanted. But with more time, he realized what I was doing and grew mad. At one point, I woke up and found out that he had announced us as a couple to a magazine.
