He knew that going in when coffee was not served. She boasted on true Earl Grey and how it not only offered a superior feel of tongue than coffee, but it offered a delicate balance to the cookies she served. They were not pretty in any way or offered the heartiness of some of the cookies she offered before with chunks of bittersweet chocolate and enough nuts packed in to offer a mouthful of enjoyment and work. She is very Machiavellian that way and he more than respected her choices as would an opposing general would admire his opponent's tactics.
"Really?"
"What," she smiled. "I got these just for you. You are one to appreciate the delicateness of these as well as the anise and toasted poppy. This with the Earl Grey would only compliment our time with each other." She placed four in a small plate in front of him and smiled. Everything was chess with her and she knew all the tricks he would pull and had done what she could to prevent him from going far with them.
Was that jazz? Hmmm....seems someone has read their Casanova. Just quiet enough to be in the background and just loud enough to offer some distraction to the silent room. A good choice. He couldn't tell if it was fusion or just some of the stuff that Coltrain and Monk played with, but it was a nice feel. Upbeat and flowing.
There's a new game
We like to play you see
He sat down and prepared his tea in the sunny, windowed room. Just enough to offer a sanctuary from the elements while giving him a view of the outside to combat his claustrophobia and desire to get up and roam. It's such a fine trap and would only be a shame to ruin how much thought she put into this. He was not only amazed, but a bit flattered at her outmaneuvering. It did remind him of being closed off and trapped like an animal, but with a pen this nice, why not go with it?
They spent several minutes getting their tea the way they want it and observing protocol and ceremony for the sake of it. She knew he wasn't one to follow the niceties, but he was a team player and knew that any complaint would be her way in. So he mimicked and observed his "prithees" and "indeeds". In a way it was fun. It wasn't just mental math or a battle of cunning thought and dancing with razor wit. It was a challenge and an opportunity to show off different aspects of who he was. It was a chance to be someone else besides the one he sees in the eyes of others.
Who said all traps were accidental in nature?
A game with added reality
It's a lot like life
After some time, conversation moved from small things and polite talk to the heart of the matter. "So, this small blonde of yours. Last time I checked, you expressed certain reservations on those with rubio hair and privileged lives."
"Ha......five", he said as he took in another sip of tea and chased it with a bite. The cookies were delicate and very decedent and obviously offered no respite in providing a full mouth unless he mashed more than a handfuls into his mouth. His eyes flashed up to her's as she smiled enough to realized that he one upped him. No touchdown dance was needed. Simply a civil touche and an acknowledgement of what is.In response he took another dainty nibble and used his napkin, cloth of course, to whip the nonexistent crumbs from his mouth as he gave his best debutante fiddle dee dee including the toss on his wrist.
He dropped the napkin in his lap and gave in, "Fine, what do you want to know."
"Oh no......no more coy banter?"
"Nah, you got me. 'When ya hung you're hung.' There is no reason to twist and toss about."
"You are not going to make this fun, are you?"
"Nah...."
They laughed together. As he offered his applause to her gracious and humble courtesy. They discussed the matter with a bit more small talk and he reassured her that his life is an open book and he would not squirm away from any direct question asked. She understood, but assured him that beers and cigars didn't have the level of celebration as this did. With that they dive right in.
He didn't offer much opposition as she asked all the hard questions. Sexual identity, first kisses from both genders, molestation, first time acknowledging his sexuality and all the frustrations that came with it. They played with the idea of arousal and desire and need. He discussed his issues with being sexually active at a young age, sexual repression, and how he was able to convince someone sexually naive and indifferent to to allow certain aspects into their usually puritanical life. The broad questions soon began to narrow as asked what relationship defined his sexuality the most. He even waved off the indirect questions on what scents, colors and reminders, knowing the procedure and knowing a bit about getting to the point and the best way to remove a bandage is to tear it off, hair and all.
He went into details that he haven't gone into for years, yet they were a bit rehearsed as if he had given this talk/speech/interrogation many times before. And yet, just as he waved off the small need add a teaspoon of sugar to it all, she had brought back the small questions in full circle almost as if she understood that she could not press him too long or to far. Especially since she would not allow alcohol to numb the experience as he implemented so many times before. She knew she had to balance it just enough to keep him open while pulling enough to disturb him.
"So she was repressed a bit."
"Yea, she didn't have that affirmation. It was extremely negative and frustrating at times. Father issues would be a factor, but in the end she was never able to accept that she was a sexual being. I tried everything and even abstinence twice. Figured she was tired of me trying to romance her."
"And this was when you had that fight?"
"Huge. She had violence issues and she didn't have any problems expressing her concerns that way. Very contrary to her needs. In the end, things were thrown, I had a new set of bruises, but I finally cornered her and asked her her issues. I mean, our fights usually ruined us for a day or so and I knew this. I was so messed up in the head that I would just do my best to forgive and forget and swallow what abuse was given and try to have us work together. The fights were train wrecks and everyone needed normalcy."
Her head cocked to the side. "You're aroused".
.........
"Yea, I kind of am."
"The abuse.....it arouses you?"
"Ha.....never thought about it, but I guess it does. With her it was living in the paths of hurricanes. You just hunkered down and wait the hell out and all of a sudden she was sorry and we had to make things nice."
"So your sex life with her?"
"Very vanilla, with an occasional stripe of rich fudge. We didn't do anything too adventurous, but it was really charged. It was almost as if I fucked her hard enough and left her in a sweat heap it would mellow her out and we'd have peace. It's odd, our roles somehow reversed in that aspect. I wasn't powerless and she wasn't the aggressor. After a while I realized that I started .....paying her back that way. She always considered me passive aggressive and even called me a liar in some cases that even I knew a lie would be the best way to make things livable."
"But didn't you say that you are an awful liar?"
"Horrendous, but when you have not exit out you try anything. I lied as best as I could and hoped that it was enough. Never was, but like I said survival forces you to try anything even if it cost you more later on."
She steered him back."Why couldn't she just ask for it? Did you ever ask yourself that?"
"Ha.....that was the reason for the fight. She could not figure out how to tell me she wanted to have sex and seeing me just getting up to start our day pist her off. She later thought that I gave up with her sexually. And she could not word how she felt or that she was horny....."
He started to laugh with that pained look on his face.
"I mean, I've slept with a good amount of women in my time and no matter what you had a rough idea what they liked and what they wanted from you. But they are never the same. It's like relearning how to ride a bike over and over again. Just the act of eating out looks easy on paper, but every woman differs greatly. Sensitivity, technique, circles, alphabets, Greek, poetry and even math. I mean, not one woman was exactly the same and I learned to study, please, and figure out their rhythms. And here....I'm like every man on the damn planet. If you start licking my body I'll let you know where. NO MYSTERY! Maybe 10% difference, but we are simple creatures."
"She was hard to get off."
"Yes and no......it was like safe cracking with her. I would get in positions where I can hear her breathing and sometimes heart beat. I moved slowly and studied each move. She could not tell me what she wanted. I had to figure it out. And once we hit that point where she opened up she somehow abandoned everything and just let loose. So much work to get there, but damn she could fuck with the best of them. Once there moans escaped, she took initiative, and that's when I could try to push the limits with her as long as we kept it mostly vanilla. Maybe finger play here or there, but that took so much work just to let her accept it."
"I'm taking it she never got comfortable?"
"Ha....no. She used to molest me in my sleep. I always figured that she just was in the mood to wake me up that way, but one time after a huge fight she reached over and we had sex.....no....made love. She rolled over to go to sleep and I laid there thinking of what the hell I was going through. It never occured to me to leave. That must be some part of the abusive relationship. I still marvel about it. Somehow leaving was never an option.......but anyways she rolled over and I felt her arm around me. I figured she was asleep, but that arm started to caress. You know, something you'd figure was deliberate. It was gentle and even loving. I figured that she forgave me or even felt that our fight was just stupid. So we made love. I mean even on a anatomical sense she was into it. So we made love. It was actually pleasant. I still look back to it and wonder how wonderful it was. Then as soon as the afterglow started and she let out a sigh of relief. I get punched in the face."
"What? She did that alot."
"Yea.....it seems that she was asleep and during the act she was.....uninhibited and receptive. And here she was, screaming at me for ....."
"What?"
"Taking advantage of her.."
"She didn't call it that did she?"
"No. She didn't."
He became stiff. She moved him along.
"So...."
"Yea...her she was beating the shit out of me. Pummeling me, really. And I'm confused as she spouted accusations and the such. And I finally realized that she was really.......fragmented. Broken apart so much that she had no idea what she was. Here I thought we had a loving moment and all the while she's calling me a rapist. Busted my mouth and nose. So much blood. I don't know how I did it, but I finally convinced her that she was the one who approached me and she had been doing this for most of our relationship. I had no idea she was fast asleep. The tables turned then. I became the aggressor and I took her to task. I told her she was so fucked up that she couldn't get off unless she was asleep. That our greatest moments were never shared. It was like finding out who Kaiser Soze was....it was ......fucked up."
You treat me like a dog
Get me down on my knees
He drank a bit more and asked if he could spike his tea. She offered a head shake, but smiled in sympathy. It was hard. It was very hard on him and his face told it all. A silent horror that never found words. All part of the cosmic joke, he called it. It made him mad in some sense that all of this endured was not out of some divine plan to endure hell for some ideal of redemption. In fact, the idea of redemption is what broke him from Antediluvian superstition of sadistic deities who would sim the live of fools in some hope of a cosmic reason. No, a cosmic joke from an absent jester that never was.
"So what happened? How does this connect?"
"Ha.....no one has patience for a storyteller anymore. Must be something we lose at 9 or something. Fine. Onwards, Onwards with my story!" He added a flourish that made her smile. Even with this much shit in his life he was still trying to make her feel better. He lived this hell and he was trying to keep her from being bummed.
"For the lack of words, I went off. I let loose. It was....as if I exploded. Here I was bloodied and accused of rape, right after the most loving moment of our relationship. A moment where I wondered if we could make things work......and it never existed. It just never existed. I was having this with this.....sleeping woman. Oh I went the fuck off. I didn't even know who it ended because I just saw red. What little I remember was her crying and apologizing.....kneeling and trying to wash the blood from my face. I ended up sleeping in the bathroom, locking myself in."
He took his time to continue. She knew he was....processing. Reliving the moment. Realizing that he had actually lived through something he had forced himself to forget. She waited until he went on, refreshing his tea and pulling more cookies out.
He started again.
" I don't know why, but somehow it meant nothing. Like groundhog day. No matter how much you changed, the nest morning just placed everything back to start and a start you never wanted to be in. I became meek again and she apologized and even tried to talk about what happened. I told her I didn't want to. It was not important. That's when I realized that I was stuck. I was in this relationship where this person's dysfunction has become my own. She could not realize that he lack of connection had pulled me into it also. I finally realized that you can't love someone who does not love them self. So.....I went back to my meek ways,but I got a bit wiser. I realize if I could not read her, I could hack her."
And that's what's appealing
Except in one you're fulfilled
At the end of the day
"What do you mean?"
"I come to realize that we would never have a touching moment like that again. That she somehow craved something that she could not admit or even imagine about herself. She would try here and there. Lingerie, perfume, what ever bullshit she would learn from other women to make our relationship loving or whatever. Just bullshit. I was already out. I would never have her the way that moment never was. That loving moment that made couples couples. I was just there to scratch the itch, mellow her out, and try to reduce the violence. All that sex would do was to mellow her out and make things somewhat bearable."
"Why didn't you leave?"
He just looked at her and she realized it was a brilliant question asked stupidly. Especially since she knew his reasons, stupid as they were. You always are willing to make things work when hostages are involved. The only questions were who were the hostages.
"Anyways, I started to use sex as a weapon. As a way to get her to open up. No wait....not really. It was a way to force her to face things."
This play between the sheets
With you on top and me underneath
"What do you mean?"
"I started to turn the tables on her. I became Dom. I realized that she would either let herself go in those moments or I would just tease her enough to mess with her. Either way it was never loving. It was just a way to reach the eye of the hurricane. Wear her down and make her pass out and sleep. Sometimes just tease the fuck out of her and make her feel like I felt....if only a moment. I tied her up once." He shook his head as he reached over to nibble a cookie with both hands. He was trying to deal with this anyway he could.
"Did she respond well?"
"Oh no. In fact, we fought afterwards. 'Why did you do that to me?' 'Where did you learn that?' 'Is that what you want me to do?' 'Am I your slut?' I did it again. And again. Other times I just grabbed her from behind and took her. Other times, I just teased the hell out of her. Anything to make her feel.....out of control. I mean, why not?"
"And?"
"She hated it, but in a good way. I took on a heavy dom role and made sure she was worked. When we got to the point where I had her begging and cursing....always cursing.....I finally told her what I wanted from her. Took me a while, but I realized that she has no way of feeling attractive. Ha.....she just didn't know how to feel attractive or what to do. Her repressive roots didn't help any, but she needed something and I started to feel shitty over making her feel like meat. She started to like it, but I just started to hate myself more and more. I mean, that was the end result. I had to get my hands dirty to make things work. I could not talk my way to a resolution or make things work. I needed to spank the bitch and pull her hair while fucking her. I needed to 'break the horse in' ......just..."
He looked as if he stepped in something revolting and put the cookie he was nibbling down.
He explained his system of 'special underwear' that would be her way of expressing her needs without saying a word. There would be no need to say those embarrassing words of desire and need. She would wear certain things and make sure he saw enough and that would be his consent and ok to take the initiative. He was hoping that he could convince her to be expressive or even to acknowledge her own sexuality, but that was a working compromise. She could be reserve and "innocent" and he would 'put her to her paces'. The blame would be on him if they did anything she considered 'nasty' and he was ok with it. It was one way of making peace. Tie her down and 'make full use of her'? Fine. He was the 'dirty one' and he just overwhelmed her."
"Did that work?"
"Ha.....it almost did. Even got her to acknowledge that I found her attractive and beautiful. So much so that her ego grew just big enough to leave me. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAhahahah!"
If you despise that throwaway feeling
From disposable fun
He laughed, but she remained quiet. It was certain that he crossed humor and pain easily. It was his defense mechanism and also knew it. He explained a while ago that there was a point where crying hurt more than the pain and laughing became his way of shrugging off most of it. It was his way of making the "victory" of others a bit bitter to enjoy.
He sipped his tea, but realized it was empty. Not the first time he done this. She filled his cup once more.
"So yea.....I know I have issues with that alone. No pillow talk. No flirting or even lovemaking. Just sex when sex was needed. I stopped loving her and just loved the idea of loving her. Like I said, when things were getting better she ended up realizing that I was the root of her problems and she decided that I was not enough anymore. She came back one day realizing that she was different than me. She was smarter, advanced even. I was nothing and I offered nothing to her. I was so much less than her. I was not worth her time. Someone else was and I wasn't. So in the end, just getting he to realize that she was beautiful and desirable worked against me. She figured out that she could do better and I was nothing remotely better. So in the end, she left and I was out."
"Out?"
Domination's the name of the game
In bed or in life
They're both just the same
"Well, not really. There would be some yoyo effects. A pattern that I would learn to live with and even prevent. Women who I would end up with would somehow leave me one day only to try and come back. It seemed that I not only made them realize that the grass was greener, but once they got there they wanted to come back and see the green grass where where they were."
He laughed bitterly. She could only watch him and knew that reaching out to him would be a slap in his face. She could understand why he didn't like to be touched. You had to let others get close enough to touch you and every touch he had faced ended up in some sort of slap. You either began to associate touch with pain or you consider it part of love's by product. A caring caress can always become a slap. you just had to have some faith on what you were getting. And yet, he lost all faith in touch also.
This was not going to be easy. This was not going to be clean either.
"I think we had enough for now."
"That's not what is happening. I'm just getting tired of writing this. You know we went on from this."
"You're breaking the 4th wall?"
"Yea.......hard to write this straight. I need some sort of way to bend reality, even if I can use my 'writer's pen' to break time and space. I told you I would do this."
"But we will continue, right. You will tell all of it?"
"Of course. You will be the first to tell me off if I do otherwise. I just can't relive this much hell or continue on without some comical relief or sorts. No one is that fucking patient."
"So....."
"So....we end here. For now."
Time and place has no power here, remember. It's always on my terms.
*hears police sirens*
Hmmmm.....looks like life is calling again.
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