"Thank you. But I still don't quite know what I want. I need a few days to clear my head a little. Is that okay?"
"Absolutely. Do you love your husband?" Ah...Yes? No? Um...
"Yes, I love him... I married him. But it's just not, you know, like passionate love or anything. Marcus is more like a room-mate." A gross room-mate.
"A room-mate? Well, that WOULD be disappointing. Did he disappoint you sexually as well?"
"Oh god yes... " SHIT! That was out loud again. Argh! THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK!
"Really...? Well, that’s very sad to hear. Did he ever please you sexually? Or has it merely faded over time? Incidentally, how long have you been married?"
"We've been married 6 years, and no, he’s never pleased... me." Gulp. I don't like that word much either.
"6 years? You would have been a baby when you married. Why would your parents allow you to marry so early?" They wanted rid of me?
"Um... 23 isn't a baby, and Marcus was 29, my age now, so it was balanced out, I think." Was it? Was it ever balanced between is? No, I don’t think it was.
"Does this conversation make you uncomfortable?"
"Very much so. I don't talk about stuff like this. I'm not that kind of woman. I don't do this. My life and especially my marriage are, or should be private," I whine.
"Yes, they should be private, and I do appreciate your discretion. However, I am trying to understand your marriage for your benefit, therefore, I'm going to ask many private questions. Are you ready, Sweetheart?" God, no! I HATE this.
"Um, no. I'm not ready. I really don't know what to say. I don't know..."
"Why don't you just answer my questions, then. Honestly."
"I'll try..." I whisper.
"Okay. In general, would you call your marital relations making love, having sex, or just fucking?" Christ! I don't know. It's not like I was an active participant.
"Um... I, I don't know. I, ah, don't really think about it. I mean..." Shit. What do I mean?
"You don't think about it afterward? Or during?"
"Both, I guess. It's not really something I participate in..." Oh, that sounds bad.
"What does THAT mean?" He asks so aggressively, that I feel suddenly threatened and embarrassed.
"It just means that Marcus just kind of did it to me, and I just waited for it to be over."
"I see."
"Um, I guess I'm not very good at sex. Marcus always told me I was frigid, but I'm not. I mean, I've, you know..." God, I can feel how red my face is.
"You've masturbated." Oh. My. GOD! Kill me RIGHT NOW!
"Not really. I mean the shower-head...." Seriously?! "I'm not good at sex, okay? So the sex with Marcus wasn't very good. I know it's my fault, but I just couldn't really get any better. So, that's it. I guess when we had sex and it wasn't very good, it was because I'm not very good!" Well, THAT was painful to admit.
"How often did you and your husband have sex?"
"Maybe once every 3 or 4 weeks, like once a month, maybe."
"Even during the honeymoon period?"
"Yes. Why is this relevant? Honestly? I mean who cares how often Marcus had sex with me, or whether I was any good at it, or if I even liked it, or if it hurt? These questions have nothing to do with where I'm at now." Deep breath. Come on, exhale slowly.
"It HURT you? Every time?" His voice is lower. Why is that the word he picked up on?
"Um, not really..."
"Sweetheart, honesty please..." he growls at me.
"Fine! Yes, it hurt every time. I hate sex. I've only had sex with Marcus and I hate it. I dread it. I felt nothing but relief when it was over and nothing but relief knowing that I didn’t have to do it again for 3 to 4 weeks when it was over. Okay?" Breathe. Come on. Deep breath.
"Deep breath, love. I don't want you agitated right now." Seriously?!
"Then stop asking me these questions! This is hard, okay? I've never, ever talked about sex before, well once I slipped and told my friend Kayla something, but she just laughed." WHAT A BITCH! "She knew the whole time..." I whisper. Shit. "…She knew Marcus was a 'Five Minute Man', and she laughed at my description. Oh my god, may- maybe Marcus wasn't a 'five minute-man' with her... Maybe it's just with m- me. Oh my god, this is so, so embarrassing..." Gasp. I can’t breathe!
"Sweetheart! Stop this now. Breathe deeply, right now. I want you to stop thinking about Kayla, and the 'what ifs'... We're talking about YOU only. Not what she did to you. Not what Marcus said about you. Nothing else, just you. Breathe, love. It's just you and me here and nothing, absolutely NOTHING you say to me goes any further, nor will I judge you for anything you tell me. Please, Sweetheart. Please, breathe, and trust me enough to talk to me."
God, his voice is so beautiful and soothing. I could listen to him always, he is so calming. I should be worried about any kind of attachment to him under the circumstances, but I don't want to think about it right now. I want to be soothed by him.
"I'm going to have to k-keep your voice on retainer for all these p-panic-attacks," I whisper.
Laughing, Z replies, "No retainer required. I'm here for free... though usually my services are not cheap. For you however, I'm willing to work pro bono."
"Thanks. Pro bono sounds good... for now. But depending on how good your s-services are, I just may pay you in the future." Wow. That sounded kind of sexual. Ooops.
"That sounded a little risqué, love. Am I bringing out the temptress in you?"
"Sadly, no. I have no inner temptress. I never have."
"Well, I'd like to challenge that statement. But no worries, that challenge is for another day, I assure you." Not today, but another day? Awesome! No! Not awesome! Shit!
"Um, Z? Can I please let you go now? I'm feeling a little tired and I would like to go buy a book and just relax a little."
"Of course. You don't need to give me any excuses, or explanations. Please, just speak freely to me. I understand you have a lot to think about, and you need time to do it."
"Thank you. I'm so afraid of being rude to you. I don't want you to be mad at me..." Ugh. That was absolutely pathetic sounding.
"I'm not going to be mad at you for needing time to yourself. And I'm not that easily upset in general, so just relax." Really? That’d be new for me in my world.
"Thank you. Can I call you later, maybe in a few hours?" Please...
"Of course. But if you don't call me in a few hours, I WILL be very upset."
"Okay. Bye, Z."
"Enjoy your book hunting, Sweetheart. Please be well.”
That sounded so... so nice, but in a good way- not in a Marcus sickeningly fake way. Z sounds like he truly wants me to ‘be well’.
What the hell am I doing? I feel like I can actually trust Z. But that would be insane. No one can be trusted. My own father told me that, time and time again. Yet, here I am... starting to trust a stranger. I really am a stupid woman.
==========
When I return from the bookstore, its 5:05. The selection of 'Erotica' books was seriously lacking, but then again, I now have a taste for the really raunchy novels of my favorite dirty author. Her books, however, I can only buy on Amazon. I don't think typical bookstores could even carry her nasty novels. Smiling, I can just picture asking Marcus to pick one up for me. Ha! He would die of embarrassment. Too funny.
My dinner consists of tortilla Chips with nacho cheese, one chocolate bar, a glass of Pepsi, and licorice for dessert. My parents would be so proud. Marcus would have a stroke. Oh well, what they can't see, won't hurt them. Curling up in bed and propping the pillows, I crack the spine of my new dirty novel...
Okay, so it’s been an hour and I'm bored to tears. I barely even remember what I’ve read. This isn't so much filthy as just kind of slightly dirty. Boring! My favorite author did me in. She set the bar too high for filth. So closing my eyes, I decide to rest for a minute, and I'm done...
==========
Waking to my phone ringing, I panic. I haven't heard from Marcus or my p
arents all day, and somehow that doesn't sit well. Their lack of interference seems really bad. Oh no. What are they planning? What are they waiting for?! What are they going to do to me?!
Panicking, I look and it’s Z. Grabbing my phone I almost scream at him, "I'm in trouble, I think!"
"Why? What's happened? Where are you?!"
"I'm still here. I just woke up, but there’s something wrong... I can feel it. I'm not crazy Z, I'm not! It's just I KNOW something’s wrong."
"Breathe Sweetheart, and tell me what's been going on." Breathe. Gasp? No!
"I fell asleep. What time is it anyway?"
"11:45. I waited to call you. I wanted you to call me, but I just couldn't wait any longer. What has you nearly in a panic?" Wow. I've been asleep for that many hours?
"Nothing’s happened. Nothing at all. THAT’S the problem. I haven't heard from Marcus, or from my parents. Can't you see? That means they’re preparing something bad, something big."
God, I’m so screwed. Z can't help me with this. He can't. It's going to be too big. I have to tell him to get out now.
"You can't help me! Honestly, I'm not trying to sound all dramatic, but I know them! They’re planning to get me. They always get me. Whatever they’re planning to do is too big for me to fight... It's too big for you to fight. You don't even know me. You shouldn't get involved in this. This is going to be... very, very bad for me, Z."
"I think you mistake me for someone who breaks easily, love. I'm not that weak, nor do I cave to others' demands. Don't worry about me, at all. Worry only about yourself."
"But I DO worry about you. Z, they’re very rich. They have sooo much money, and influence, and friends. You can't possibly help me. They’ll find a way to hurt you too if they think you are or have been helping me. And I really don't want that. I don't want you hurt because of me. I'm sorry, but I have to go. Thank you, sincerely." Breathe, Dammit!
"DO NOT HANG UP ON ME! I won't stand for it. If you hang up now, I'll just be at your door in minutes. Listen to me closely. I am not afraid, nor can they hurt me."
"Yes, they can. And they will. They always get what they want. Always. I'm going to be punished for daring to embarrass my family by leaving Marcus. They’re going to find something to use against me, to force me to g-give in. I can FEEL it. I know it, Z!" Shit! Where is all the air?
"Listen to me. They cannot hurt me. I too have money..." I snort at his words. "…I have a lot of money, and influence, and ‘friends’, as you call them. They CAN NOT hurt me! Do you know who I am? Have you never researched me?" What?
"Um, no. Why would I? That's rude." Seriously? Who researches people?
"Rude? Ha! That’s very naive, love. Everyone researches everybody else. Everyone wants to find the 'thing' which gives them an advantage over someone else."
Shocked, I ask, "Did you research me?"
"Of course I did. You were intriguing to me from the moment we spoke. I heard the reserve in your voice, and the manic attempt to hold control. I heard you lose it, and I had to know who you were." Really? Well, this is a surprise. No one ever wants to know me.
"What... What kind of research did you do on me? I think I'm very uncomfortable suddenly. I feel like you have something on me. Do you? Can you hurt me?" I'm going to freak out any second here. I can't trust anyone!
"No, I have nothing to hurt you with. That wasn't my intention. I wanted to know you, not what you may or may not have done. I was only looking for a clue into the mind of this strange, intriguing, slightly erratic, attractive woman, with the beautiful lips and the alluring eyes..." Well, that sounded nice. "... And I would NEVER hurt you. I told you that in the beginning, and I keep my word... ALWAYS. Knowing I researched your background changes nothing."
"It does for me. We're not on even footing. You have an advantage over me. I have nothing but a funny last name. That's all. It's really quite unsettling, and unfair."
"You could ask me anything, and I will always tell you the truth, barring any issues of confidentiality, or discretion and the sort. Ask me anything, Sweetheart. I don't hide, and I don't cower. There is nothing that can hurt me."
"God, I wish I was as confident as you."
"You will be. By the time I'm through with you, you will exude confidence, and power. No one will ever again force their will upon you... Well... except for me, of course." Again, I hear his smile-voice. I love hearing it. It's sexy and charming. HE seems sexy and charming.
"I'm still a little unsettled by all this. You have your research over my head, and Marcus and my parents have my past and future over my head. What do I have? Nothing."
"You have me. I’m still here, and I’ll help you. Even if you decide to return to your faithless, prick of a husband, by your own free will, I will still help you balance out the financial power in your marriage. But I WILL state this; I do hope that is not the case."
"Why? Why do you care if I return to Marcus? I need to know. I don't understand anything at the moment, and I really don't understand why you want to help me; it just doesn't make sense to me, Z."
There’s another long pause. Wow. Did Z just dramatically exhale? Did he learn that trick from me? Ha!
"Well, love... To be completely honest, I know my answer will probably terrify you, but I'll tell you anyway. Basically, I think very fondly of you, though admittedly I don't know you very well...yet. I feel a connection to you and I enjoy it. I can't explain it, and at this point in time I don't really care to try to explain or analyze too closely why that is, but I cannot help but think of you as mine- mine to care for, and mine to help." Long exhale. What?! Why does that seem kind of dangerous, and nice... and sexy?
"What the hell does that mean? I’m nobody's. No one wants me to be theirs, and you shouldn't either." God, he really IS insane. I knew it!
"I told you, Sweetheart... I can't really explain it and at this point in time I don't want to. You will just have to accept it. I am here, I’m going nowhere, and I plan to help you, because I need to... because I want to."
After his statement, I can't think of anything to say. This is so strange to me. No one needs me. I am empty and alone. No one thinks I'm worth knowing, or helping, or caring for, if they even think of me at all.
I don't know what to say to any of this. I know I should be grateful. I know I should be happy, but I just feel, well, numb actually. And more silence...
"When did you last have an orgasm, Sweetheart?" Wow! Topic change. Christ! My head is spinning.
"Pardon?!”
"You heard me. When did you last have an orgasm?"
"Um...a while ago." Jeez, my red face must be burning through the phone.
"With your husband? By yourself? With a toy? Or the shower-head...? I believe you mentioned."
"Um, the shower head." Ugh. This is SO embarrassing.
"When was the last time you gave yourself an orgasm without the shower-head?"
"Never. I can't. It doesn't work." I don't work, down there.
"Can you say the words, 'pussy', 'cock', or even 'orgasm'?" No. No I can't.
"I don't want to. They’re gross words. They're very ugly to me."
"So 'vagina' and 'penis' are okay?" Flinch.
"No. Not really. I don't like those words either. Why? Ah, this is really…"
"Okay. How do you ask for your pleasure?"
"Um, I-I don't. I don't talk about this stuff."
"Okay. I want you to think of your vagina, as your 'pussy' from now on. Pussy sounds much less clinical, and much more sexy, don’t you think? Tonight, after we hang up, I would like you to touch your pussy." Flinch "Can you do that for me? You don't have to get-off, just touch yourself while thinking 'I’m touching my pussy’. Can you do that? It's simple enough, just a little touch on, or even in your pussy. If you do get-off, great. If not, don't focus or obsess about it. An orgasm isn't the point of the exercise. I just want you to think about your pussy tonight. Okay?" HOLY SHIT! I can't! I just... CAN'T!
"Ah, o-kay. But why?" Did I
just agree to this? What the hell?
"I'll explain tomorrow. Tonight, just think about your pussy. I know I'll be thinking about it..." Oh. My. GOD! Did he just say that?! "... And yes. I just said that. Sleep well, love. I'll call you in the morning."
HOLY SHIT! Did that just happen? This is insanity. This is crazy! An EXERCISE? My god, he is the strangest, most dominant man I've ever met.
Why does he talk to me like that? No one talks to me like that. I’m ‘virgin-sacrifice girl’, not ‘dirty-girl’. No one says bad words like that to me. Touch myself while thinking of it as a p-pussy? That’s just so gross. It's a gross word. I can't think it. I can't say it. I'm not that girl. I don't ever think about my body down there at all, if I can help it.
God, I remember when I met the shower-head by accident after a particularly aggressive thrusting from Marcus a few years ago... Oh god, it hurt. I remember I asked him to slow down. I remember lying there tense, gritting my teeth. I actually started counting in my head during the sex. I counted seconds until I hit five minutes, hoping it was almost over. It figured, that night Marcus went for almost 10 full minutes. It was brutal. When he was finally done, he kissed my forehead and said, ‘That was awesome, honey’. Uh huh. Right. But like an idiot, I just smiled at him.
I remember the shock of the pain when I stood up to use the bathroom. It was excruciating- much worse than usual. Stumbling to the bathroom, I dropped the sheet to get in the shower, and there was blood on the sheet. I was shocked. Blood... again? What was I? A VIRGIN? I remember laughing at the absurdity of bleeding again, and realizing I definitely needed lubricant in the bedroom from that night on.
In the shower, I remember I turned the shower-head to the light pulsing mist to clean away Marcus from my body. It hurt like hell, but there was another feeling as well. I remember pausing and just holding my breath.
Strangely, the small pulsing of the water felt good. Eventually, I sat on the edge of the shower and just let the streaming pulse stay right where it was on me, down there.