by Lisa De Jong
With angry tears beginning to burn my eyes, I stand up and leave him sitting there. This is not what I signed up for when I agreed to meet up with him behind Ben’s back. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but definitely not this.
Outside the bar, I walk towards the curb to try and catch a cab. When I lift my bare arm in the air, I remember too late that I left my jacket back in the coat check. Whatever. The cold air is a welcome relief as it cools down my heated skin.
When a yellow cab pulls in front of me, I’m about to get in, but Arsen’s voice stops me.
“Fuck. Cathy, wait!” He grabs my arm and spins me around until we’re staring at each other. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that we are attracting unwanted attention, but I don’t care.“Let go of me, you asshole!”
My anger takes him by surprise, making his hand go slack. I snatch my arm away and leave him standing there as I run blindly for a couple of streets before Arsen catches up to me. He grabs my hand forcefully, making me follow him to an empty alleyway that hides us from pedestrians as I start hitting him and yelling for him to let me go. One of his free hands tries to cover my mouth to stop me from screaming, but I don’t let him. I viciously bite him, feeling my teeth break through his skin. I can taste his blood. And it’s fucking sweet.
“Fuck you, Arsen. Leave me alone. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”
“Would you please listen? FUCK! Stop it Catherine! Look at me! Calm down!”
Crying and defeated, I let him lower us to the dirty ground. As I sit on his lap, Arsen murmurs, desperation in his voice.“Shhhh...Cathy. You’ve got it wrong. You’ve got it all wrong. I care...I care a lot.” There’s hopelessness and yearning in his voice and in his hold of me.
When I lift my eyes and meet his, I finally understand everything. The song, the phone call, tonight…I get it. I do.
And I’m not sure if it’s the desperation and sadness I feel, the look of want in his eyes, or the attraction I’ve been fighting all along, but I decide that I don’t care anymore. I’m done with doing the right thing. It’s at this moment, when I feel Arsen’s hot breath on my face and his arms wrapped around me, that I decide to throw everything away. Ben, my marriage, my future.
I need to feel him inside me.
I need Arsen to burn me to ashes with the fire roaring inside his blue eyes.I need to kiss him.
So I do.
When our lips meet, it’s not a tender moment. It’s fierce.
Passionate.
Cannibalistic.
Teeth clashing.
Hair pulling.
Like this is the last kiss we will ever taste.
Arsen breaks away first. With his chest rising heavily, he stares at me with a desire so powerful that warmth gathers between my legs.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says as his hands settle on my shoulders, letting the tips of his thumbs caress my skin, brandishing me with his fingerprints.
Silent for a moment, I let myself drink in his beauty. The color of his eyes, his strong jaw, the golden stubble adorning his face, his full lips…
I’m not naïve. I’m aware that if I leave with him right now, we’re going to do more than just hold hands.
We are going to fuck.
If I leave with Arsen, I will be turning my back on my marriage and Ben once and for all. If I leave with this man with the blue inferno in his eyes, I will burn until there’s nothing left of me.
Chapter 20
Once Arsen shuts the door behind us, he immediately pushes me against it and begins to kiss me desperately. He kisses me from the mouth, to the neck, all the way down. A sheen of sweat covers my cheeks, my chest…desire pulsating through my veins. Moaning, I reach for his head and pull him up, face to face. I need to feel his lips on mine once more.
When we break apart, we study each other as we let the reality of what we’re about to do sink in. As silence fills the room, all I can do is stare at him while he watches me with hunger in his eyes. He is so different from Ben. Arsen’s golden beauty is the perfect foil to Ben’s dark looks.
“Dimples, what I wouldn’t give to know the thoughts inside that little head of yours,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Arsen, I’m not here to chat.”
The smile is wiped clean of his face. “What are you here for, Catherine?”
I shake my head. I don’t think I can actually voice what I want him to do but Arsen seems to know exactly what I want.
“Show me your tits,” a voice as rough as sandpaper orders.
“What? No. Why?”
I’m taken aback by the crudeness of his words. But what did I expect? A love poem?
“You want to fuck, well, lets fuck. I want to see your tits. I need to feel them in my hands. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. Fuck, Dimples…” he murmurs as he tugs the neckline down, causing my small breasts to flow out of my dress. I close my eyes out of shame or possibly excitement when I feel Arsen’s large hands cupping my breasts. His thumbs rub my nipples awake.
“Are they sensitive?” Arsen asks huskily, pinching them.
“Are they sensitive?” he repeats his question when I don’t answer.
“Yes,” I croak.
Arsen squeezes harder once more before letting go of them. As soon as his hands are off my body, I miss his touch.
“Turn around and show me your ass.” I’m so far gone, I just follow his instructions without protesting. “Yes, like that. Now, lean against the wall and push your ass out. I want to see your pussy.”
Arsen doesn’t waver. He just orders and I follow.
With my back facing him, I can feel his hands on me slowly lowering my thong mid-thigh. With my underwear out of the way, he spreads my ass between his hands, massaging it as one of his fingers enters me from behind, feeling how wet I am, how wet he makes me.
Moaning, I push my ass harder against his hand. “Oh, sweet fuck. Feel how wet you are…you must like it, don’t you?”
I want him inside of me, so I begin to move away from the door when he pulls my hair, bending my neck backwards. “Don’t move. Want me to fuck you right here like this?” Nodding like a crazy woman, I say yes.
“Want it rough?”
I swallow hard. “Whatever you want. I just want you now.” I want him to make me numb, take away the fucking pain for just a little while.
“Push your ass towards me, baby. I am going to fuck you now.” He pauses. “This is your last chance to say no. Are you sure you want to do this because once we do this, there’s no turning back.”
I close my eyes and make a decision.
“Yes. God, yes. I’m sure.”
Arsen leans down, and whispers in my ear, “You will not regret this.”
I feel Arsen’s arms around me as he lifts me up in the air and carries me towards his kitchen. “What the he—”
I don’t finish the sentence because his mouth is on mine. His tongue battles with mine. The kiss is aggressive, possessive, and needy. When I feel the counter under my ass, he lets go of my body and leans back to look down at me. Slowly, he removes my red dress and my bra, leaving my breasts bare. Completely naked, I begin to unbutton his shirt.
“Fuck…you make me lose my mind.” He leans down and nibbles my lower lip as he wraps both of his arms around me, lending my back support.
With his white shirt open, his naked chest grazes my breasts, my nipples already tender from his teeth, pebble so hard it hurts. I close my eyes and let his mouth wander my body only to open them when I feel his tongue grazing the valley of my breasts. I see him tracing a path with his tongue all the way to my neck, never taking his eyes off of mine. Maintaining eye contact, he lowers his mouth to one of my breasts and rolls the nipple with his tongue.
When Arsen lets go of my back, I put my arms out behind me to hold myself in place. Arsen then grabs my ass roughly and pulls me closer to him. I can feel his erection through his pants as he grinds himself against my clit. And just as I’m about to get lost in the
fucking sensation, I feel him moving to stand between my knees. His fingers curl around them and urge them wide apart. I offer no resistance as he stands between my thighs, breathing over my mouth, and then bending down to bite my lower lip.
I can taste my blood.
My stomach tightens and the beating of my heart fills my ears. I watch him closely, and what I see in his eyes frightens me because it’s a reflection of what I want. But Cathy came to play, right?
I’m a big girl.
I know what I want.
We watch each other as I feel his thumb brush over my clit. Sucking in a deep breath of air, I ask him, “Why are we doing this, Arsen? Why do you want me? You could have anyone you want.”
Arsen runs three fingers over my clit, then presses them deep inside me. Arousal flies through my body. My hands go to his hair, pulling his face closer to mine as I hear myself cry out. I spread my legs wider and lift my hips as an invitation for his merciless touch. I whimper when Arsen starts to rub one spot faster. Harder. Beautifully brutal. After a few moments, I’m already so close to coming when he stops.
“Stand up. Turn around and bend over,” he orders.
I am so lost in pleasure that I don’t freaking care what his words mean.
What he is about to do.
What we are about to do.
Until now, Arsen and I have only fooled ourselves into pretending that we are friends and nothing else. In my mental haze, I know that if we go further today my marriage will be over. The jaded side of me, the one that rules my life, is telling me to go ahead and fuck Arsen. To throw everything away just to feel alive once more, to just feel.
On the other hand, there is a big part of me, the one I have been ignoring pretty much since I agreed to meet Arsen, telling me, urging me not to do it. Not to do this to Ben. Not to do this to myself. That I am cheating myself; that I am better than this. That part of me is also saying that I love Ben and that without him, I will be nothing.
Well, screw that.
And screw the guilt I am feeling, and screw what my fickle heart is telling me.
Like I’ve said before, I want to forget.
And Arsen…
He’s my kryptonite.
So I turn around and bend over the kitchen counter. I hear the sounds of his zipper opening and of foil paper being ripped. When I feel his hands grab my hips, I grip the edge of the counter for support. Bent forward as I am, offering myself to him, my eyes land on an object that sparkles brightly when light falls on my hand. It’s my engagement ring and diamond wedding band. Dispassionately, I admire the beauty of the rings…the simplicity of the design...the way it seems to be flashing like a warning signal.
Ben.
He gave me these rings as a promise to be mine forever. We said our wedding vows as he put that wedding band on my finger.
Ben.
I close my eyes to the reminder of what I am about to do, of what I am about to throw away. What I want to do.
“You want this, huh?” he asks hoarsely.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Shut up and fuck me, Arsen. Just fuck me,” I whimper and plead. “Make me forget. Please, make me forget.”
“Shit, Catherine.” He slowly caresses my naked back, making me tremble under his tender touch. “I will.”
It all happens at once. I close my eyes, my cell goes off, and Arsen slides all the way in, pushing me forward with the force of his thrust. A cry escapes my throat. Is it pain? Is it pleasure? Is it guilt? Maybe all three.
When I feel his dick inside me, my body instantly recognizes the difference. The thickness…the length…it’s not the same, but it feels just as good. Maybe even better because it’s not Ben. I shut my eyes and silence the voice screaming in my head that this is wrong. In this moment, nothing exists but Arsen and me.
Not even Ben.
“Do you like it, Dimples? Do you like my cock fucking your pussy?” he hisses as he begins to move.
I feel my arousal covering him as he thrusts with slow and easy care. My swollen body embraces him, welcomes him, and takes all of him.
And my cell phone keeps ringing.
I hold my breath and ignore the annoying ringtone and its reminder. I don’t want to think. On the brink of having an orgasm, I push my body back against him. I can hear the sound of our bodies clashing…slapping…and the phone ringing.
Arsen groans as he clutches my hips harder, his fingers leaving indentations on my skin, savagely filling me, erasing every single memory of Ben off my body. I hear my moans getting louder as he brings one of his hands to rub my clit incessantly.
I’m close, so close.
The phone rings again, and again, and again…
Never stopping. Taunting me with its music.
I don’t open my eyes. I don’t want to lose the rhythm, but my body has other ideas. Arsen grips my hands in his as he leans over me, his front pushing me all the way down so that I’m flat on my stomach, and regains the lost rhythm.
There are no words of love being whispered in his kitchen. No laughs. The noises filling this room are the frantic slapping of our bodies, his groans, and my moans.
And the fucking cellphone that won’t stop ringing.
He fucks into me smoothly as his fingers find my clit, this time rubbing me without mercy. I can feel my climax hovering above me, just waiting for that final push. I open my eyes and put my head down and look under my body where he’s pumping into me. His cock huge and glistening makes me want to take him in my mouth and suck him, but I don’t. Instead, I lift my ass in the air and push harder against his dick, forcing him to slam his body into mine. I’m giving him everything I have. Arsen begins to thrust harder, and harder, and harder. I feel light headed. I am so close. The pain becomes unbearable but I can’t stop myself from enjoying the aggression of his hips. It’s driving me closer to my climax. Behind me, Arsen slams into me one last time shoving me forward.
We come together hard.
“Fuuuuuck!” he shouts.
I moan.
After a lengthy silence, our heavy breathing the only sound in the room, Arsen finally answers my earlier question.
“Because we can’t help ourselves. We can’t keep avoiding this.”
When Arsen pulls out of me, my eyes land on my phone peeking out of my bag. The image staring back at me.
Ben holding Mimi and smiling into the camera.
Sometime later, after another round, I’m lying naked on top of Arsen. Our bodies sweaty from screwing, his hand gently caressing my back, a crystal clear thought suddenly forms in my head. With my chest pounding frantically, I realize I haven’t felt like this for a very long time. ALIVE.
And I want more.
A lot more.
****
Crying.
My eyes are tired.
Scrubbing.
My body is raw.
God, give me strength. I want to go back. I need to go back, but could I?
Could I go back to Arsen and let him fuck me again until he erases the pain away? Until he pulls me out of the deep ocean of remorse I’m drowning in?
Those waves. They keep pulling me down. And I need to break through. I must. But he made it all go away. He made me forget, even if it was just for a couple of hours. He made me forget, and I want to forget.
I must forget.
Scorching. The water falling down on my skin is burning me and it feels so very good. The pain is a sweet punishment for having tasted the deliciously forbidden.
Foamy soap covers me as I continue to scrub my body down, washing him away. I don’t want to, but I must. I cannot go to bed smelling like another man, smelling like the musky scent of Arsen’s cum, so I coat my body with jasmine scented soap over and over again. Ignoring the swollen redness in between my legs, the rug burn on my knees, the bruise growing on my left breast close to my nipple…I erase all traces of him off my body.
After I’m finished showering and patting myself dry, I apply lotion on my body and face and head to bed. My hair
still damp from the shower wets my pillow as I lie down, pretending to be asleep before Ben comes to bed. I don’t know how I will face him, kiss his lips, taste him in my mouth, when all I want is to taste someone else. Rubbing my legs together and feeling the soreness in between them is a reminder that I should feel remorseful. And I do, I feel remorse, but I don’t think it will stop me from repeating what happened tonight. No. I want to be selfish. For the first time in a very long time, I was able to forget about the pain and the memories.
I lost myself in the sweet oblivion of Arsen’s body.
I felt alive.
I felt high in the freedom of walking away from my shitty life and pretending for a brief moment that I was just Catherine. A woman. A sensual woman who isn’t a failure.
When Arsen touched me, I didn’t feel a visceral reaction to his touch.
When he went deep inside me with each thrust of his hips, I didn’t feel like it was sex to get pregnant, I didn’t feel the lack of romance.
When he fucked my brains out on the carpeted floor for a second time, it didn’t feel like work or a task. It was pure raw passion, and I want more.
I crave more.
But can I go through with it again?
I don’t know.
The guilty tears have dried, my body is clean, and my conscience is garbage, so why am I so confused? The answer should be simple; walk away, come clean with Ben, apologize and hope that he has it in him to forgive and forget. The thing is, I’m ashamed, but I’m not sorry. I’m not. It’s funny, really. Thinking about the way he came inside me, on me, everywhere, makes me sick to my stomach, guilt twisting it so tightly. Yet, the memories make my heart flutter as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Control and restraint gone, being with him was pure bliss.
Sometimes not being in control, not being able to think, just losing yourself in the moment, is the greatest feeling in the world. It’s liberating. It’s addicting. It’s the most powerful high you’ll ever get. It’s a kind of freedom that tastes so sweet on your palate that you can’t help but want more each time you have it.
Ben joins me in bed not too long after, and I wish he hadn’t. It’s only when I feel his warm hand on my hip, when I’m lying next to my unsuspecting husband that the realization of what I’ve done finally sinks in. Massive revulsion roars inside me, making me nauseous. Dirty. I feel dirty.