07/26/2016 08:32 in oral
The harshest lesson that I have learned in my life, I am privileged, or cursed, to have learned just a few nights ago. I am reminded once again of this fact as I stare at the e-mail on my screen, close my eyes, and try to calm my heart as I decide whether to save it or delete it.
--"Hi Patrick! I'm so glad you could come to the party the other night. --
That lesson? The dividing line between heaven and hell is as fine as a single hair ripped from my own head. Or from the head of an angel: my Julia. Julia, my love, I hate you so fucking much.
A couple of days have passed since the night of the party. I see her e-mail. It is from her. From Julia, my love. Yes! I think. It is another invitation! But I am terrified that my acceptance will be entirely of my own free will. Heaven and hell are eternal, and constructed entirely by one's own choices. No matter which choice I make, I know I'll never be the same.
Truly loving a person means putting their happiness above your own. And she seems...happy, like this. The look on her face... But I digress. That is a lesson I learned long ago, both through the received conventional wisdom and my own life experiences. I haven't had many; I don't consider myself a worldly man. In fact, I spend most of my days now just wishing for any kind of noteworthy experience. I didn't have many relationships growing up; didn't even have my first kiss until I was 18. Most women simply smiled with a "Thanks, but no thanks" look if I approached. I had a couple of brief relationships in my twenties, and then I thought I found the Real Deal when I met Julia.
Things seemed, not perfect (nothing is), but at least quite wonderful for a time. Things were on an upward trend when I popped the question and gave her an engagement ring. I'd worked hard and saved in order to be able to afford it; neither of us was particularly well off at the time and it had set me back more than anything else I'd bought that didn't have four wheels attached to it.
Now, I am jobless. Now, I have to get by on a check from the state and what modest income I derive from freelance tutoring. My wardrobe and entertainment tastes are, to say the least, extremely frugal. But anyway-
Things with Julia progressed slowly, but steadily over the following months. We moved in together. The sex became gradually more adventurous, though certainly not extreme by modern standards. It was usually in the missionary position, with little in the way of foreplay. She'd always been somewhat turned off by giving oral sex, so blowjobs were a rare occasion, and she would never perform it on me to completion; no matter how liberal we were with other things, she could never escape the feeling that it was degrading, and not in the sexy sort of way. Probably the kinkiest things we did were occasionally tie each other up, or sometimes she'd tickle my anus lightly with a fingertip. It felt nice, but we didn't push it very far. We were having fun and we cared about each other immensely. But one day, she got a promotion at work, and her salary doubled overnight. Things changed after that.
We took it in stride at first, but after a few months I began to detect occasional notes of scorn in her voice. If we were at the store and I suggested we go with an off-brand in the interests of saving money, she would act like I'd grown a 3rd eye in my forehead and just chuck the item in the cart, saying she'd take care of it. For some time this pattern continued, her condescension became more apparent. She grew impatient with many of my sensibilities when it came to everyday life, and we started fighting more and more. Soon, I was on the couch at night, usually wondering whether it could really last with the girl of my dreams.
Though I should have seen it coming, it still hit me in the gut like a sack of bricks when she told me she was leaving. The arguments were vicious, and I was heartbroken; she seemed callous and distant. It was somehow harder for her to be cold and apathetic than it was when we were both arguing passionately; at least then she had some feeling, even if it was antipathetic.
She moved out; to add insult to injury, she left me a stack of cash for her share of the rent until our lease was up, because she knew it would embarrass me. The possessions that we'd bought together, she told me that I could keep and she'd just buy new things for herself. It was as though she was lording her economic superiority over me. But still, I'd need the money. I've always been gainfully employed, but never seemed to do better than "just getting by."
After a few weeks of living separately, we spoke a few times and managed to sort of salvage a pseudo-friendship; we both agreed that things had been said that shouldn't have been, and that we should try to at least remain friends. I, desperate to win her love back, held on to this as a beacon of hope that some day things might resume where they'd left off when we'd been happy together. But for the most part her promise of friendship was hollow. We talked occasionally, but never really saw each other. She usually said it was "too soon." Conversations on the phone were always brief. I didn't know if she had been seeing anyone else, and I thought it best if I didn't find out, despite my intense curiosity.
I drank heavily for several months, in a state of deep depression. I never lot this be known to her in our brief conversations though. The tiny amount of dignity I had left demanded it be kept from her. Eventually, the drinking and depression cost me my editing job, which is why I'm now on state assistance and food stamps. It was in this rather shameful condition that my heart leapt with joy and hope last week, because she'd called and invited me to her place for a small party she was throwing. There would be a few other people there, but at last I could see her finally! Maybe we would have a moment to speak in private and work a few things out. There was always a chance.
My heart raced on the way over there; it was 6:00 and I was showing up a bit early, but I didn't think she'd mind. I had never been much of a party person anyway, and I didn't know if I would stay terribly long since I was prone to a bit of social anxiety in such situations. She knew that, but I guess it hadn't been on her mind when she invited me. Still, I wasn't going to throw away the chance to see her.
I showed up at the address she'd given me; it was a nicely kept ranch house in the suburbs about twenty minutes away from the heart of the city, where I lived.
"Patrick! You're early!" she greeted me at the door. "Come in," she said with a smile. She looked even more stunning than when I'd last seen her, and I immediately felt self-conscious at the shabby corduroys and t-shirt I'd put on. She was wearing a satin gown, light-blue in color. It cut off just at her bust, where the gown's thin straps extended up over her shoulders. Her breasts even seemed a little fuller; the gown accentuated them perfectly, and I could have sworn that her cup size was slightly larger. I mentally contrasted her appearance with my own, which had assuredly declined with my drinking and lack of exercise. I sucked in my developing gut a little, and followed her into the house. Her dark hair had been freshly cut and styled professionally; it had likely cost her the equivalent of what I allowed myself to spend on food in a week.
The front door opened into a parlor area, which featured a pair of couches, a nice oriental rug, and several framed pieces of art on the walls. It was much cleaner and nicer than the home we'd shared had been, and I couldn't help but feel that she had in fact traded up simply by becoming single. There was a rosy glow to her cheeks and an energetic bounce to her step that I hadn't seen during our last month together. Beyond the parlor was a hallway, which lead to first a kitchen, then a living room, and what must be bedrooms beyond that.
I saw movement emerging from the area of the bedrooms and was startled.
"This is my friend, Tasha. I don't believe you've met. Tasha, this is Patrick."
"Hello," she said coolly. I extended my hand and she shook it quickly. She continued on her path to the kitchen as Julia led me to the living room. I saw Tasha's chestnut hair and bare upper back drifting confidently away from me. I looked after her admiringly, and then flushed with embarrassment as I realized Julia had noticed my gaze.
"Sit," Julia said, politely but firmly. I sank down into the black leather couch nearby, and she sat next to me. I immediately began to regret coming here. My heart was already racing. She was even more stunning than she'd been six months ago, before things fell apart, and I felt like an utter slob who was treading water in the past while she swam forward confidently.
"I, uh, hope you don't mind that I'm a little early," I mumbled quickly.
"No, not at all!" she said with a magnanimous grin. "I thought you might be. It's so good to see you, though! How are you doing?" she gushed.
"Oh, okay, I guess," I answered, too embarrassed to tell her what was apparent from my appearance; I was a wreck.
"I'm glad to hear it. Listen, I suppose we ought to get this out of the way. I feel bad for the way I treated you and I hoped we could have some fun together tonight, as a way to make up for it. I don't want us to be on bad terms."
"Oh, you know that's not necessary. Shit happens, I don't blame you. I'm willing to let the past be the past and just go on as friends."
"Excellent," she beamed. "That's how I feel as well. Oh, I'd been so dreading you'd be resentful of me."
"What?" I said. "No, of course not." God, I missed her so much I could have wept right then. The angle of her cheek bones, the freshly styled hair, her smooth skin...none of which would ever really be mine to touch intimately again, if it ever had been. That night she wore a perfume I'd never smelled on her before, some combination of peach and lavender scents, I thought. I felt myself getting into trouble, mentally, as I thought about her naked body. I hadn't seen any other women in the time we'd been apart, and was ashamed to admit that most nights I got drunk on cheap bourbon, watched porn, jerked off to alleviate the pain of missing her, and disappeared into a hazy tunnel of fitful sleep. The last few nights I had abstained from the porn and masturbation regimen and passed out early, because I'd been more interested in getting drunk to numb the emotional pain than in briefly gratifying my sexual urges.
Her closeness, and my lack of a recent tension-relieving session, were already becoming an issue.
"Look, I don't want this to seem hurtful, but I think enough time has passed that the right thing for me to do would be to return the engagement ring to you. You can, I dunno, return it to the jeweler, I'm sure having the cash would be better than some memento of a girl that left you like a cold-hearted bitch." She said it with a light, self-deprecating tone, but her words were not without some seriousness to them. I think she genuinely felt she was doing the right thing.
"I, uh, well I don't know. You don't have to give it back. It would seem wrong to take it back..." I trailed off.
"You wouldn't be taking it back, just accepting it. Really, I feel awful that you spent so much money and I still have it. Please say you won't leave without taking it back?"
"Well, okay, I guess," I muttered. It felt like even more of a nail in the coffin than the act of her moving out of our apartment. But I supposed it was necessary, and I really could use the cash if I could pawn it or return it.
"Wonderful! Now, tell me, have you met anyone new? Are things going okay in THAT department?" she asked with a knowing gleam in her eyes. Before I realized what had happened, she'd lightly patted my crotch area. I couldn't feel it very much beneath my baggy corduroys, but my heart leapt into my throat and my cock felt a jolt of electricity for a split second.
"That's...I really would rather not discuss that," I said. My heart continued its sprinting beat.
"I hope you understand I'm just asking out of concern for you. I've come to realize," she continued, "the importance of a good sex life to a person's health and well-being. And I feel awful that I treated you so badly. I do hope I can make it up to you, somehow."
I gulped. My heart sped up. She scooted ever so slightly closer to me, our legs touching through fabric. It took me back to the first time we kissed. Julia's eyes flicked up to the entrance to the living room, where Tasha was now standing.
Gah, get out of here! I thought in Tasha's direction. Leave us alone!
Tasha stood at the threshold, looking at us both.
"Patrick?" she said through the brief silence.
"Yes?" I said, desperately wishing Tasha would leave. Go away, fuck off, you horrible, miserable-
"When I told you before that Tasha was my friend, that was both true and misleading. She actually lives with me."
"Ah," I said, oblivious.
"And shares a room with me."
"Okay," I said, continuing to be clueless and embarrassing myself.
"And she shares a bed with me."
The revelation hit me hard, and it was somehow worse than reliving the day Julia left me. She'd left me, and was fucking a WOMAN now? Ordinarily, of course, all guys fantasize about their girlfriend being with another woman. But usually it included him in some way. Somehow, her leaving me for the arms of a woman was even worse than her leaving me for a man. Why was she telling me this? I thought, desperately. I wished I didn't know, that I could go back to just a few minutes ago and start over. It was as though stabbing me in the heart hadn't been enough; now she had to twist the knife just to watch me suffer. I wished I hadn't come, but I couldn't just get up and leave. I felt powerless and desperate.
Tasha wore a smirk and sauntered towards us. Her gown swished lightly with her legs in the silence that had come back in between Julia and me. She sat down on the couch on the other side of Julia, their identical gowns striking in such proximity to one another. Their bare shoulders touched; Julia's a light, creamy color and Tasha's a healthy tan.
"Is this okay?" Julia asked gently.
No, I wanted to say. No no no this is horrible! I wanted to say as my heart panged with jealousy. But I also couldn't help the fact that I was sitting on a couch with two gorgeous women. Two gorgeous women who I knew were sleeping with each other. Tasha's grin bespoke a calm triumph over me. My Julia, sleeping with someone else. I almost laughed out loud; it was like one of those stupid letters to a porn mag. "Dear Penthouse, I never thought this would happen to me, but..."
Of course, my penis was starting to think that something might happen to it, but the rational part of my brain couldn't even remotely conceive that anything illicit was actually about to occur.
I wish, oh how I wish I'd left Julia's house right then. I wish I'd left and never looked back. But what man would have the willpower to do that? I can only guess at the ways in which I've been damaged irreparably by the horrors that were to follow, and this wasn't even the beginning yet.
"Yes. Yes, it's fine," I said. The part that was fine was Julia, the woman I loved sitting next to me. That part was heaven. The fact that she was sleeping with someone else, and that person was right here too, was hell.
"I thought you might say that," she said, a little breathily. "I've done so many things to hurt you. I thought maybe I could do something that might be...more pleasant, but I think it would be best for us both if the two of us didn't directly do anything together. It might," she said, "delay the healing process for you."
I nodded and gulped. She smiled sweetly and turned to Tasha, slowly running her fingers down Tasha's arms. I was enraptured by the gentle whisper of contact between them. Their lips came together softly. Unsure what to do, I began to touch Julia's bare upper back, but Tasha grabbed my hand and lifted me off, all while they continued to kiss. The quiet sound of their mouths wetly interacting was death to my heart, and life to my penis. After a moment passed, Julia turned to me with a smile and said softly, "Do we look good together?" Soft. Everything in those few moments was soft.
I nodded again, "Yeah...yeah, you do." I said. The two of them really did look fantastic together, like a work of aesthetic brilliance called into being by some Michelangelo or Picasso.
She laughed and swatted her hand at my arm. "Oh, relax. You were always too high-strung. It's no big deal," she said, in response to my nervousness. "In fact, I have just the thing."
She and Tasha got up and left for a moment. I was struck by their confidence and self-possession as they stood and walked calmly out of the room, despite the heat of the moment that had just occurred.. I let out a big, long breath, twitched my legs up and down, and ran a hand through my hair. When they came back, a lit joint was between Julia's fingers. She puffed out a big cloud of smoke as they entered the living room.
"Here, have a hit," she said as she passed it to me. "It'll calm you down and make you more sociable, I have the other guests coming soon." I accepted the offering and in my anxiousness breathed in a bit more hefty of a hit than I should've. I coughed and passed it to Tasha. We took turns until we were stoned, and Julia extinguished the last third of it in a nearby ashtray.
"Now, where were we?" she asked, teasingly. In addition to relaxing me, the pot had heightened the sensitivity of my nerves. Everything seemed to slow down and I began to be a little closer to okay with the thought of Julia kissing someone who wasn't me. Kissing, and the giving and receiving of pleasures and comforts, seemed to be the natural, preferred state of everything.
Julia and Tasha began to passionately flick their tongues back and forth between their mouths, slowly, but hungrily. Julia now sat to my left and Tasha to my right, but they appeared to be taking care to come into contact with me as little as possible. I was painfully conscious of their sleek, expensive gowns in contrast with my own t-shirt and cheap pants.
Oh, God, I thought. Julia, my love...you're so beautiful right now...
But I felt that to reach up and touch either of them, or otherwise assert myself would be to ruin this beautiful moment. They parted for a second and stood up from the couch, moving to the floor a few feet away from me. Tasha slipped the straps off of Julia's shoulders, and their breasts pushed against each other's, creating an artificially high bust-line for a moment as they held each other. Julia brushed the hair back from Tasha's forehead as Tasha continued to sensuously disrobe my Julia, my love. The emotional pain remained behind the screen of pot that we'd smoked; it still hurt, but the hurt was overshadowed by the beauty of the moment. Suddenly, though, I felt desperate to be a part of this moment, to once again share something with Julia. My heart was pounding. I stood up.
"Sit," she breathed. "Or you go home." I obediently sat back and started to touch myself through my pants. The pot had exacerbated my sensitivity and I was so aroused I felt like I was starting to leak pre-cum into my pants at the tension of these past few minutes. My balls throbbed desperately. The muscles around my prostate clenched and relaxed seemingly of their own volition.
Tasha finished undressing Julia and gracefully planted her lips at various places on Julia's body, progressing from her throat, to her breasts, and continuing down to her pussy. She lightly passed her mouth over the soft down of Julia's well-groomed pubic hair. Tasha looked at me, smiled with a sparkle in her eyes, then turned and planted her mouth on Julia's labia. She let out a moan as Tasha started flicking her tongue over Julia's clit.
My love...how I wish that could have been my mouth pleasuring you! It was almost as though I could feel Julia's pleasure palpably radiating out of every inch of her, my angel.
The scent of Julia's and Tasha's arousal began to mix with their perfumes, and I felt I would not be able to contain myself much longer. Tasha reached around and caressed Julia's buttocks, occasionally giving them a light smack that resounded in my ears like blissful torture. It was as though my nerves had jumped out of my body and now sat on the surface of my skin, and they had become capable only of transmitting pleasure, such was my state of inebriation and arousal. I began to unbutton my pants, desperate to at least be able to relieve myself like a pathetic voyeur, wondering how I would ever handle this emotionally when it was over. But I didn't care. I was completely enraptured in the moment, and the heartache could not stop my desire.
"No," Julia said suddenly, breaking the moment. She pulled her crotch away from Tasha's mouth. I'd spoiled the moment. "Rule #1, you take your pants off, THOSE go on. She pointed to an end table I hadn't noticed before. On it was some strange looking pair of what looked like women's underwear, with a small rubber dildo attached to it pointing inward. Next to the panties was a transparent, hollowed-out piece of plastic in the shape of a penis.
"Julia..." I began in a tone of voice that must have sounded dreamy. "Please..." I said. "I miss you."
"No," she said firmly. I sighed and reluctantly stopped with only my pants unbuttoned, but still on.
She smiled. "Trust me, Patrick. We'll make it worth your while. Don't you miss the taste of my pussy?"
"Then sit back and stop touching yourself."
She began to disrobe Tasha, looking in my direction while she did it, as though she were pretending to undress me. Julia cupped Tasha's ample left breast in her hand, and placed her open mouth over the other. She gently rubbed the nipple in between her lips until Tasha sighed in pleasure.
"Come here," she whispered, and my instinct was to interpret it as directed at me, but it was clearly for Tasha. Julia sank to to her knees and tossed her underwear onto the couch next to me.
Oh God, oh my God, I thought in a state of confused arousal. It was like I was in the middle of one of the porno videos I'd gotten used to watching every night.
Julia lay down on her back, and again whispered "come here" to Tasha. Tasha crawled over near Julia's head and I thought she was going to lean over and kiss her again, but instead she lifted a knee over Julia and straddled her face. She gasped while the sound from Julia resembled a moan of both contentment and excitement, which was muffled by Tasha's legs and vagina. Tasha fixed me briefly with one of her cold, neutral gazes, and with her eyes still on me began slowly rubbing her pussy on Julia's face. My love's beautiful face. They pleasured each other in this position, tongues performing a confident dance that seemed perfectly choreographed. It was obvious that they knew how to take care of each other. Julia was making sounds that I'd never heard from her when she was with me.
I was desperate to touch myself though, even if it could only be the sensitive parts of my inner thigh and perineum while my cock was in the plastic cage. I throbbed with the accumulation of the past several days. "Ah, fuck," I muttered to myself, and clumsily took my pants off while staying on the couch. I kept my shirt on, painfully aware of my slight gut.
"The rules," Julia said, looking at me from between Tasha's smooth legs..
"Goddammit," Tasha said as their rhythm was disrupted. She lifted a leg and backed off of Julia's face. It glistened with sweat and the seepage of Tasha's pleasure.
"Fine, fine," I said. I got off the couch, conscious of my erection, and walked over to the devices on the table. "Julia, I-"
"Shut up," she said. "Must you spoil everything? Just put it on, you idiot." I clumsily inserted my penis into the plastic mold and affixed the piece that closed it off. I couldn't tell exactly how to get it off, though, and would probably need help with it later. It was embarrassing that I couldn't fill it all the way, but at least it didn't hurt too much to have an erection with it on.
Julia and Tasha rolled onto their sides, continuing to make love to each other with their tongues.
"I love you," I whispered to myself with a faint sob. I heard a chortle from Julia that was muffled by the wet pussy in her face. I grabbed the bottle of lubricant and put a healthy dose on the small plug fixed to the panties. HhadHHad I not been in a very relaxed, anything-goes state, I would have hesitated or not done it at all, but nevertheless I carefully slid the panties on and slowly put the anal plug in with a gasp. My sphincter muscles clenched reflexively and I forced them to relax. I laid down carefully on the couch and continued to watch while I gently brushed my fingers as close to my cock as possible.
Julia soon let out a cry as she came, and doused Tasha's mouth with a moderate amount of ejaculate. Most of it flowed out of Tasha's mouth and left a wet spot on the ground, but she seemed to take care to preserve some in the hollow of her cheek. I'd only managed to get Julia to do that a couple of times, and both had required a lot more work on my part. The scent of aroused woman started gradually to overcome the peaches-and-lavender perfume, and it tormented my nostrils with thoughts of desires withheld from me.
Tasha's first orgasm soon followed, and they calmed down a bit. They giggled gently, if a little mischievously, and stood up. They walked over to me and sat on the leather couch, their sweat-and-cum-slicked skin sticking to the material and making a bit of a squelching noise.
I felt utterly helpless. I did not want to disobey their earlier warning and ruin this tortured moment, but I desperately needed relief. Their shining skin was millimeters away. Their scents were inside of me, taking me over.
"Do you still want me?" Julia asked with a smile. Up close, I could see the fluid remnants of Tasha's orgasm streaked on her face.
"Yes," I said. "So much. So much. Anything."
"Then you shall have me, my dear." She turned my head gently towards Tasha, and Tasha leaned forward, the scent of Julia's cunt dancing like fermented passion off of her mouth, and pressed her lips against mine. Tasha gently expelled the small amount of cum into my mouth. Not expecting this, most of it dripped down onto my legs.
"Do you like how I taste?" Julia asked.
I couldn't say anything and break our touch, which was devouring me inside and out. Oh my love, your taste-
I couldn't see, but I felt Julia smack my plastic-enclosed penis. Hard. It bounced back a bit. She giggled as Tasha and my mouth clawed for purchase in a war for ownership of Julia's sex. But I could never own her, as this evening was proving. No, she was the one who claimed ownership of me as Tasha's tongue probed inside my mouth. She pulled back and I was left in a daze, my mouth still open. Then, Tasha spat into me and I recoiled instinctively.
I turned to kiss Julia, longing to give her the delicious taste of her own pussy and eradicate Tasha's usurpation of what had once been mine. But Julia pulled away and taunted me with an exaggerated smack of her lips.
"Tut tut," she said. "How do those little panties feel, hon?" she said, and then smacked my bottom right at the spot at which the plug was inserted. I spasmed uncontrollably and bolted upright like a body being shocked back into life with electrical paddles in the emergency room. The pressure on my prostate was causing a small amount of cum to ooze out of me into the container, and I begged Julia, "Please, let me."
"No," she said. "In fact, it's getting close to time for the party. The others will be here soon." My heart sank and my cock cried out for relief. I leaned forward on the couch, arching my back and grinding my buttocks over the plug. "That's enough," she said. "This was just a taste of what you have in store. Take the panties off." Her tone had become brusque and business-like, without even a trace of sentiment or playfulness. I felt utterly at a loss, throbbing with arousal and still heartbroken by seeing the love of my life with another person. "The cage stays on. Or you can leave if you prefer."
I was tormented and felt suddenly more alone than ever before.
"We're going to take a shower," Julia said. She and Tasha picked up their clothes. "You should get dressed. We'll be back in a half hour; there's the remote," she said, pointing. "You can watch TV if you want, but leave the cage on."
The two giggled and walked out of the room. I heard them stop in the kitchen and open the refrigerator or freezer, pull out something that sounded like a glass dish, and place it on the counter. "Hey, your ring is in here!" Julia shouted. "Don't forget it later!" They then left the kitchen and walked down the hall, to where I assumed was a shower.
"Your ring," I thought, with a pain in my heart. "Your ring."
I was still in shock and high as a kite. I zoned out for a moment, lost in remembrance of the past half hour and trying to navigate the pain that I knew would intensify when the night was over. Despite all this, I felt no small amount of pride at having just witnessed something that most only fantasized about. It would be my little secret, I decided, a way of quietly and secretly exerting a dominance over the other guests who would soon be here that would have no clue about the intimacy that had just been shared with me, albeit in a limited fashion.
My erection finally began to subside, which was the only relief that seemed forthcoming. I cautioned myself to leave the cage on for now, in case one of them came back and witnessed me breaking their rule. Anyhow, I couldn't really figure out how to get it off even if I'd wanted to. I'd put my pants back on in a few minutes, I decided. I clicked the TV on, but it appeared to get no reception. Changing the channel did nothing, even though it was on. I grabbed the DVD remote and turned it on, just wanting something to fill the quiet and relax me for a moment. Whatever was in the player should do; comedy, action, whatever, it wouldn't be at the forefront of my concentration.
But something different entirely was in store, it seemed.
At first, the screen remained dark and I heard some muffled noises, scraping, mumbled human voices. It sounded almost like a garbled television transmission. I turned it up and heard "that's better" coupled with ambient noise. The view on the screen shifted somewhat, seeming to back up. Suddenly, I was confronted with a large close-up of a vagina.
"What the fuck?" I wondered. The camera pulled back. It was Julia on the screen. Her hand was over her genitals and rubbing slowly. She bucked her hips slightly, in time with the rhythm of her hand. She moaned in pleasure.
This is so fucking messed up, I thought. What has happened to you, my love?
I heard a deep voice encouraging Julia from offscreen.
"Yeah, baby, that's my girl," a man said. "Hit that shit." He laughs and then sighs contentedly. Contented. With Julia. My Julia.
Onscreen, my love periodically smacked her clit in between strokes. She gasped and bucked her hips even harder than before. This continued for a moment and then the view changed as someone must have stood up with the camera.
"C'mon over, girl. Enough preseason, it's game-time." Julia calmly closed her legs back together, sat up, and crawled towards the edge of the bed at the bottom of the camera's vision. A smile radiated from her. My own muscles tensed as I understood at that moment that I was the furthest thing from her mind, and would be forever.
Jesus, I thought. Oh God, no, not this too. She wouldn't!
The camera pointed down, displaying the muscular chest of a young man with a fully erect phallus. His feet framed his cock in the grotesque point of view afforded by the camera. I felt a flood of shame when I saw my love's mouth slowly approach the head, which stood out a full ten inches from his anonymous waist. She formed an 'O' with her mouth and I felt a wave of sadness pass through my entire being. Julia moved her mouth up and down over his cock several times, and then smacked her lips in satisfaction. Those lips of hers that I knew so well, that I'd kissed hundreds of times. I felt I could taste the foulness of the anonymous man's cock in my own mouth.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to turn it off. I wanted to die.
But I couldn't do any of those. Because I also wanted to touch myself and imagine that it was me. I was the one with whom she was making love using her mouth. I was the one she was thinking of when taking her pleasure, I tried to tell myself. Horrified, I watched as she slurped gratuitously and pulled back for a breath, then pushed the large penis up against his toned stomach. She started licking his balls, bits of saliva dripping freely from his member and her lips.
Those lips. My love's lips.
A slow soundtrack of crashing cymbals and distorted guitars seemed to play in my head, creating a rhythmic progression towards a shameful end that contrasted with her lips smacking and the man's condescending encouragements. She was eager to please, and I couldn't tear my eyes away. She placed her hands on his abdomen and caressed him, moaning with the cock in her mouth again.
The man, whoever he was, grew louder and started to bellow.
"Come on, baby. Come on. Give me some," my Julia said as she stepped on the broken pieces of my heart. I started to cry a little bit when the man exclaimed "Ah, FUCK. FUUUUCK YES." Julia tickled his balls in a grotesque parody of the intimate and adventurous moments in which she'd tickled my anus as I was about to come, back when we shared a bed together. The man's cock spurted into my Julia's mouth, the mouth that I'd kissed so many times, the mouth that had told me she loved me. I was helpless, unable to tear away, as I watched her smiling face from his looming perspective. Amid his groans of orgasm and her sighs of receptive satisfaction, copious strands of off-white semen flowed out of her mouth.
"I love you, baby," she said to the anonymous man, when she'd swallowed what remained. He did not respond.
Suddenly it was all too overwhelming, and I wept openly, unable to concern myself with whether or not Tasha and Julia might return and catch me.
His cock. Her mouth.
Everything bled together in a whirl. I felt mildly nauseous, but still aroused, inexplicably. I couldn't unhear the lip-smacking sounds. I couldn't unsee the sperm dripping from her fertile mouth. I couldn't unsmell the odor of Julia on Tasha's lips. Suddenly, I realized I'd been grinding my butt on the sofa, stimulating the inner folds of my buttocks and sending a river of pleasurable sensations up my spine.
Her mouth. His cum.
I exhaustedly leaned back and clicked the DVD player off. I stared into nothingness until I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew I was being shaken by Julia.
"Hey, wake up. Patrick, people are starting to get here." This was my greeting as I swam back up into consciousness. "Come on, seriously. Put your goddamn pants on." I blinked and sat up. Julia was still in all-business mode. She crossed her arms and looked disapprovingly at me. She tossed my pants onto my lap and they covered my enclosed penis. "Everyone's at the door waiting on me, now come on!"
I jolted to life, not wanting to be seen in this pathetic state. I didn't have time to take my penis out of the cock mold, so I just put my pants on over it. I was conscious of the tapping sound over the plastic coming into contact with the metal zipper as I moved. Voices were coming from the entrance, where Tasha must have started to let people in. I squeezed my belly in and buttoned my pants shut. Julia grabbed my forearm and dragged me to the living room.
Several men entered the room. Most of them were taller than me, and lean. I immediately felt a surge of embarrassment as I noticed how much more nicely dressed than me they were. It really hit home at that moment how much I needed money, and to get my life back in order. As much as I didn't want to take the engagement ring back, and as skeezy as I felt by the thought, I was desperate to sell it as soon as I could.
"This is Lee," Tasha said. "Lee, this is Patricia, I mean, Patrick." I glanced at Tasha, who wore an expression of cold apathy. He shook hands with a firm grip, and Tasha continued to recite the others' names.
Odd, I thought. All guys? Surely some of them have girlfriends or wives or something.
And Jerome, Peter, Lee, Jason, Mark, and Tyrone were all pretty good looking, I had to admit. For guys. And it was obvious they all worked out, so I wondered why exactly none of them had a female companion.
We all sat down in the parlor. I fidgeted nervously. Julia and Tasha spent most of their time talking to the others and seeming to ignore me on purpose. Time slowed down again as my heart raced with nerves from the forced social interaction with people who were clearly my betters. I wanted to leave and be alone with my disgraces. In my lengthy silences, I lost track of what they were talking about as I replayed the video scene from earlier.
Her mouth. His balls.
The way that cum dripped out of her mouth, onto her chest.
There was no way I could think of to excuse myself and go home in the middle of all their conversations, and I didn't want to disrupt it all to publicly ask for my engagement ring back, so I sat nervously on the sidelines, shrinking away from their talk of life's successes, goals achieved, competitors bested, and so on. It seemed like everybody here was either a banker or a salesman. Eventually, I said that I had to go to the bathroom, and instead I sneaked into the living room, where the seemingly fantastical scene had taken place earlier in the evening. I smoked the last of the joint and sat down, entering into a kind of melancholic euphora.
Soon, the voices in the living room grew quieter abruptly, and I strained to hear what was going on in there without me. I heard muffled whispers for a moment, and then some nervous laughter from Tasha. I tilted my head, listening anxiously. What was going on?
More whispering. I went into the kitchen in search of some water for my drying mouth, and to get away from the intrigue I could hear from the other room. God only knew what was happening. Fuck, I can't even get out of the house without passing through there, I thought. I saw near the freezer a large glass bowl, which must have been the noise I heard earlier when the women stopped in there. It was about 2/3 filled with some white slushy drink that appeared to be thawing. The partiers in the other room seemed to have forgotten about beverages for the moment, though.
There was something inside, some strange dark shape on the bottom of the bowl, but I quickly lost interest as I heard a gasp from the living room that was loud enough to reach me in the kitchen. Then I could tell it was Julia. She was grunting loudly and crying out:
"UNH, UNG, UNH, FUCK."
I moved back to the couch in the living room, putting my hand down my pants and forgetting that my cock was covered in plastic and that I would need some assistance to get it off before leaving.
Jealousy raged in me as I understood that Tasha and Julia must be putting on the same show for all those men as they had for me.
I am not special. I thank my love for reminding me of that fact while she takes her pleasure with her lover.
I heard laughter intermixed with quiet for the next few minutes. Lots of bass-inflected chuckling from the men, and now a couple of them sighing with pleasure. All of it without me.
"Yeah, lick that dick. That's it."
I wondered if he was talking to my love, my Julia. I wondered if it gave her pleasure to feel cocks inside her that weren't my own, even though she'd already taken another partner. Of course it does, idiot, I thought. It's right in front of you to see.
But truly loving a person means putting her happiness above your own, and as I heard pure joy in the quavering of her voice, and as I had earlier seen the looks of ecstasy on her face, I swelled with pleasure at the thought of her own pleasure. Her joy was my joy, because by leaving me she had arrived in this paradise of indulgence, this height of debauched accomplishment from which she could look down on me far below. I marveled at the image of her lips, my Julia's lips, sliding up and down, slowly and carefully, the long shaft of that fertile cock on the video screen.
The voices in the other room got louder and louder, and then the sound of people milling about, reconfiguring. One of the men whispered something and I heard Tasha say calmly, "I'll get some."
I soon saw her naked body pass quickly without so much as glancing in after me. She went down the hall and as I saw her pass again, I noticed she was carrying a couple of towels.
I again heard what sounded like the wet smacking sounds of fellatio being performed on a number of people and then several more reconfigurations. I could no longer resist and I felt I must bear witness to my Julia's, my love's, happiness.
I slowly looked into the parlor from the hall and my head began to spin as I took in the scene. It was as though I was surrounded on all sides by people who all wished to exterminate me through the act of mindless fucking. I felt like I was drifting into hell with each half step of my foot closer to the parlor. Tasha and Julia were completely nude, their expensive gowns in a heap. The men's clothes were strewn about as well.
The clothes in here are worth more than I have to my name, I thought amidst the sickening squelching sounds. Julia was impaled on both ends by the pricks of two men. She slid back and forth smoothly, the cheeks of her butt bumping against a pair of muscular thighs. And then she slid forward, onto another cock.
"Mm-Mm-Mmuh, Mm-Mm-Mmuh" she said around the obstruction his penis made.
But what was perhaps the most jarring sensory input was in fact the opposite of sensory input; the near total lack of vocalization, apart from my love's faint noises, struck terror into me. It wasn't filled with the overstated yelping that I was accustomed to in the porno movies I'd been watching. Looking back, I think now the relatively understated ambient noise was so striking because it meant that the act of sliding back and forth between these two cocks was, for Julia, a rather mundane activity, even if it was filled with pleasure. For her, it was like reading a book, or receiving a compliment; pleasant and gratifying, but commonplace through the repetition of a routine. This fact piled mountains on top of the weight already on my heart. The silence left the ether of the room open enough that my ears were filled with the quieter sounds of gentle smacking, of sticky wetnesses splutting rhythmically, and my nose was filled with a thick odor of male sweat that invaded my nostrils like a palpable fog. E
Now and then one of the women would let loose an involuntary "UNH!" or one of the men would grunt with effort and pleasure, but it was less frequent than I'd have expected. The haze of sweat and bodily secretions, dominated by the more numerous men, almost made me gag. It was disgusting. It stank. But it was also arousing. I felt I could drown in the revolting stuff happily. This is when I married my pleasure to my disgust, and the pair occupied the same plane as heaven and hell, love and hate. I'd always heard rumors that smell was the most erogenous scent, and now that was driven home irrefutably.
Tasha was fucking one of the men cowgirl-style. As she bounced up and down, she jerked off two of the other men's pricks as they were pushed near her face. The sixth man, I noticed now, was stroking himself and watching Julia as hungrily as I was. Then he walked over and started gently smacking her on the back with his cock while she squirmed forward and backward along the penises she'd claimed with her orifices.
This activity went on for some time as I watched, feeling as though this night's horrors would never end, and craving an end to every part of me. Soon, I saw Julia, my love, stand up. One of the men slid his muscled, sweaty body underneath her, and another moved in behind.
She fucked both of them at the same time. My Julia did.
She lowered herself onto the man beneath her, and I dizzily wondered where I was for a moment. How had my life brought me to this? Everyone in the room seemed to groan in unison now, except for me. I was alone with my shame and euphoria. The man behind Julia slowly, but insistently, nudged his dick into her anus. She let out an "UNGF" and deep moan of pleasure.
I started to weep again, quietly, but I remained unable to tear myself away from this hell of utter depravity. At the same time my passion and adoration and love for my Julia seemed to reach a new peak, in between each distinct sound of her getting fucked into oblivion. But the oblivion was both of ours; therefore, so must be the pleasure of that oblivion.
I wandered into the jungle of bodies, hardly realizing I'd been moving my feet. They all ignored me. Tasha shouted and came, twice in a row. After she caught her breath, she separated herself from the pile of flesh of which she'd been a part, and calmly walked over to me. Her sweaty body glistened, and the entire room continued to be saturated with the stench of sex and men and sex and women. My own scent was submerged in it, just as my being was submerged beneath this panorama of shapely bodies and burning envy.
Tasha walked up to me and yanked at my pants. She slid them down, revealing my penis contained by the plastic mold. No one said anything. Julia continued fucking. One of the men, Peter, walked up nonchalantly and shoved his cock in her face as she bounced up and down on Lee.
Tasha took my hand and led me over to Julia. She tapped the man on the shoulder who had been sodomizing my love. He complained good-naturedly, but slowly pulled himself out of her and moved out of the way.
"No," I said weakly, in a complete daze. "No, no this isn't happening."
They ignored me. Tasha pushed my head down towards the nexus of hips that belonged to Julia and whichever of the men she was riding. The fuckstench grew even stronger up close. Tasha gradually applied less force and I, in a daze, started to propel my own face towards her now-vacant rear. But at the last moment I hesitated, revolted. She pushed my mouth into her ass, some man's cock mere centimeters away, working my love into yet another peak.
"Tongue," she said, simply.
I stuck it out. I tasted of her temple of waste, and my spirit was broken when she cried out in renewed pleasure in response to my tongue.
Julia. Such dark delights as this I could never have imagined her participating in.
I gagged and leaned back from a moment, watching her grind up and down, but soon I came back. I wanted to help her, you see. I wanted to help her finish my undoing. I overcame my instinctive nausea at tasting such a forbidden part of the body the more she appeared to enjoy it.
Soon, Tasha pulled me back by my greasy hair, and then used her other hand to gracefully assist Julia in dismounting the man she had been grinding on. Lee moved to the side and Julia got to her knees. Tasha pushed me down onto my knees behind Julia, and she in turn knelt behind me.
"All of you, now," Tasha commanded them.
They started to line up, all of them stroking their penises and looking hungrily at Julia, some of them even glancing over at Tasha. Even though they certainly weren't, I felt like they were looking at me, and I reflexively panicked.
"Patrick, this is your job," Tasha said as she took each of my hands and wrapped them around to Julia's front. I was pressed firmly against Julia, Tasha against me, as I was forced to caress Julia's beautiful, perfect breasts.
I raged inside. I continued to die as her nipples hardened in my grasp.
Peter then positioned himself so that his cock was in between Julia's breasts, within grasp of my own fingers. My hands, guided by Tasha's, pushed her breasts together around his glistening penis, and then rubbed them up and down on it. Peter moaned. Julia cackled fiercely and shook her butt rhythmically against my enclosed member while I helped her, my love, give a titjob to Peter.
Her breasts. They were so soft and full. I could suckle from them forever. But that salvation remained impossible.
And then they started to get a little moist as Peter's pre-cum leaked out onto the inner parts of her cleavage. I could smell everyone's sweat and pheremones. My mind reached dizzying new heights of pain and passion.
Tasha guided my hands and playfully stimulated Peter some more with Julia's body. His moans grew louder. He pulled back a little and stroked his penis faster and faster, while Tasha held my hands, and my hands held Julia's breasts slightly raised, waiting for him to orgasm. Pushing them up in welcome of his offering.
Her breasts. My hands.
I continued to die.
Peter swore loudly and I felt hot semen spurt haphazardly onto Julia's breasts and my hands. Tasha, commandeering my hands, jiggled Julia's tits up and down as the sticky white substance crept in between my fingertips and Julia's nipples. She turned around and kissed me with a delicious grin and hungry eyes. Julia grabbed one of my hands and sucked on each finger, while another one of the men stepped into Peter's place.
Tasha made me repeat this humiliation for ten minutes while the rest of them turned Julia into a mess of white hot jism. My Julia, my love, how could you. I love you. And I hate you.
I was embarrassed to find that I had leaked out semen into the plastic piece, and my penis was now stewing in its own drying juices. I don't even remember orgasming, I was so caught up in the hell of that moment. The heaven of that moment.
After the last man dumped his load of sperm onto my Julia, my love, and I finished rubbing it into her soft breasts, I was pulled shakily to my feet by Tasha and Julia. I was in a daze, and I might have been weeping openly. My ass felt like it was on fire with pleasure, like it was so awakened to its senses that it could taste the air itself. I had never experienced such a deranged state of intense arousal. I was led, shaking, like a frightened lamb, into the living room. In the parlor, all the men seemed to be wiping themselves off with the towels that Tasha had retrieved.
But the women were far from done with me.
"Sit," Julia said. She went into the kitchen as I sank into the couch. My hands became sticky as the sweat and filth began to dry into my skin. I heard her pick up the bowl from the counter, open the microwave, set the timer, and start it. Tasha pulled a large dildo from a drawer, followed by a pair of panties with a harness. She calmly strapped them on, not even bothering to look at me.
"Almost done!" Julia called with a delirious giggle. Tasha smiled while she looked down at the dildo she'd strapped on to herself. In a few seconds, the microwave beeped and Julia retrieved the glass bowl. The murky-white slush was now a thick liquid. It wasn't too hot, but it definitely gave off a little warmth when Julia sat it down on the floor near me and Tasha.
"Over here," she snapped. I crawled to her.
"I think you liked that little dick you had in your ass while you watched us, didn't you?"
I couldn't answer. It had felt good. But I couldn't talk.
"Answer me, or you don't get the ring back and you leave now. Abd you know you need that money. Besides, I think you'd do it just because I ask you to, regardless" A thin line between heaven and hell, I thought. I wanted to weep again but I felt emotionally dead. My cock was softening in a small pool of drying semen.
"Yes," I said finally. "Yes."
"It's time to graduate. Congratulations," she said. "Turn around."
I did as instructed. I stared at the bowl, not daring to guess what this fresh terror could be.
But I knew. It was Julia's conquest.
"I made sure not to cum too much," Julia told me. I looked around uncomprehendingly, and she was rubbing her clit. "You should thank me, because it's going to save you some pain." She moved up to a position near my ass, kneeling behind me while I remained on all fours. Bent over and exposed, my asshole remained aflame and sensitized such that it seemed it could taste the pungent air, and it craved more. After a moment of jerking herself off as crudely as any man, she began to gush her warm nectar over the inner folds of my ass. The gentle splashes of ejaculate were a heavenly, cleansing rain and I let out uncontrollable exclamations. I sounded like an animal dying in despair. But her heat tasted like paradise.
"Now fuck him," she instructed Tasha. "Fuck his pussy."
Tasha slowly introduced her fake cock into me, using Julia to lubricate my repurposed behind.
Tasha's cock slowly entered and I yelped. She nudged me towards some precipice at my body's core, and I let out a moan of half-pain and half-pleasure as she backed out and slowly in again. It seemed to get easier each time. It seemed to feel a little nicer each time. With each thrust growing in strength, I felt I was becoming one with a kind of death-delirium, and that Julia was thriving off of my retreat into it. She mocked my desperate sounds, lording over me the fact of her ability to own her own pleasure, while I was helplessly consumed within the shadow of hers. Julia slowly positioned us so that my face edged over the bowl each time Tasha thrust into me. I felt like my whole body would explode and my mind would be gone forever.
"If you want that ring, and the money, you're gonna retrieve with your mouth. It's at the bottom of the bowl," Julia said.
"What-" I gasped. "W-w-what is-" I stammered.
"It's those six guys in there. Don't worry, you've already had them anyway. This is just what we've saved up for you in the past month of partying."
The heat baked off of the pool of filth and wafted into my face.
Welcome to hell.
Julia swirled a finger around in the hot, white honey, and tweaked my lips briefly with it. I gagged in response, trying to keep the pleasurable rhythm with which my buttocks slammed back into Tasha's hips. I felt like a dead thing skewered over a spit as Julia pushed her glazed fingers into my mouth. Then, she pulled her fingers out, and pushed my gasping mouth into the small pool of manspunk.
I exhaled sharply in a panic, screaming, and spluttering cum all over. I cried. My Julia, my love. I hate you. You are my hell.
I came again into the cock mold as I wept and pinched my engagement ring between my lips while in the viscous fluid. Then I pulled my head out of the muddled soup and slowed my pumping rear. The ring fell to the carpet. The touchless orgasm that shuddered through my penis died quickly, but my anus wouldn't stop. I convulsed as my asshole seemed to have an orgasm of its own. It doesn't make sense, but it felt like the nerves in my anus had rendered the orgasm in my cock completely hollow and unsatisfactory. Before I could wipe the fetid spunk off of my mouth, Tasha yanked me up by the hair and wrapped a hand partway around my throat. Julia leaned up and started to kiss me passionately, playfully smearing the cum around my mouth and spitting some onto my tongue. Tasha leaned around, exchanged a look with Julia, and they simultaneously moved in towards my face.
Grinning, Julia said, "stick out that dirty tongue."
Tasha also had a smile on her face, and as I stuck it out, both women took turns gently sucking on my tongue as though it were the penis of one of the well-endowed men in the parlor. They made gentle love to it, suddenly adopting the care of a nurse tenderly administering to a patient. They flicked it with their own tongues . Julia, my love, my hate, took it fully into her mouth, gently swallowing all of my being, and then slowly backed her lips off. As she did, it felt like all the pleasure was pulled from my anus and rippled up my back one last time, went out through my tongue into her body, and then my body gave up the ghost, and the pleasure was gone.
And I was finally dead.
I must have passed out then, because when I woke up everybody was gone. I was on the floor sleeping, naked and with my cock free of the cage. The crusty ring was on the floor in front of my face. My face hurt, its pores clogged with the dried glaze of the night's evils. I sat up, head pounding, horrified that I had survived my own death. I dressed, feeling dizzy, nauseous, ecstatic, and horrified all at once.
I hate you, Julia. I want you out of my life forever.
I left as quickly as possible. When I arrived home, I fell asleep again.
I slept for a long time.
The next few days were as horribly boring as most days are when you have no job and no money to spend. I was able to pawn the engagement ring, but didn't get as much as I'd expected for it. My thoughts were mostly occupied with either nothing at all, or with the hellish tableau of fucking that I had both been a part of, as a bizarre nexus of humiliation, and cruelly excluded from.
Earlier tonight I got an e-mail from her. It's the one I read right now as I try to determine the course of the rest of my life. It opens with a rather mundane:
--"Hi Patrick! I'm so glad you could come to the party the other night. --
The e-mail has one attachment. I love you, Julia. I hate you, Julia, and I want you out of my life forever.
The attachment just says, mysteriously, "11-13.avi".
--Anyway, it felt so good to get to talk to you and catch up on old times! I'm so sorry things aren't going very well for you at the moment. Don't worry though, you'll find someone new soon, I'm sure of it. Though it might not be a bad idea to hit the gym or something; don't take that the wrong way, I'm just worried about your health is all."--
I am still dead, no matter what size my stomach is.
I want you gone forever. But I want you always to be happy. And I want to be able to watch your happiness.
--So I don't know if you had much fun at the party. I'm so sorry, sometimes I just get caught up in hostessing! ;) --
--But in any case, I had a -really- good time and I think this is a good step for us. I'm so glad you're willing to be friends. Most guys wouldn't! See? I always knew you were special in some way! --
--Since the night was so wonderful, I thought you might like a little memento of the evening. So that you NEVER forget it. I've attached an avi file; the video quality isn't great, but Tasha was able to edit together the best shots from all three cameras that were in the parlor. --
I won't give her the satisfaction. I'm deleting this horror, this atrocity. But I am dead, so I feel powerless to do that.
My Julia. My heaven. My hell.
I save the file to my hard drive. I gulp my bourbon faster than usual. I unzip my pants and begin to plunge myself forward into oblivion once more.