ULTIMATE AWARD
a short story
August 29, 2002- New York
11:45 pm
Let’s just keep it real: She's a prostitute. A highly paid hooker. Nothing else.
“Look, I don’t have a problem with what you’re doing, and I am the last person to judge anyone…That’s totally not what this is about.”
Really, I’ve got no frigging clue what the hell this is about. All I know was that my life depends on getting rid of the chick. She has no right to be here.
Hell, I have no right to be here. Not anymore. At some point, in another galaxy far, far from here, I had every right in the world to kick her out on her glamorous ass and possibly even kick her teeth in. But not now. I successfully had crash-landed that UFO of dreams.
So, why are you here? Wasn’t it bad enough before? Didn’t get enough humiliation for your taste, Lisa?
No, I’m a bottomless vessel when it comes to making a total ass out of myself. My talent for absolute humiliation is only surpassed by my complete lack of immunities to him.
To Michael. My sun and my death star.
It’s comical really. I am a married woman. I have some stupid pictures of me in a fairy tale white dress to prove it. Which could be the starting point of oh so many jokes. I still don't know why we weren’t all struck by lightning. Oh, i know, because the punishment of living knowing how I bombed this time is ultimately a much more fitting punishment. It all still seems so unreal to me. Maybe the pics were photo-shopped. No such luck, I think there is a marriage certificate around somewhere, too. Unless I tore that up in the crazy tornado of booze, yelling, and throwing things I recently survived. Or was it a hurricane? Hurricane Nic.
No, that’s not fair. This isn’t his fault. Sure, he asked to marry me- but it was dumb ass me who went through with it, despite every bad omen in the book. If I learned one thing it is that I’m the creator of the shithouse I have made of my life. The people I involve are only flies buzzing around my latest and greatest pile of manure.
So, one would think that a newlywed like myself would happily be lusting after her husband. Well, yeah, any sane person could assume that. Too bad I have not been sane in a very long time. If ever. My sanity left with my Dad. And I have been on an eternal quest to find my lost mind. Thought I found it, too, for a while. Michael was that good. He actually had me snowed into believing there was such a thing as normalcy. They told me he was crazy. I dressed to match.
“We live a normal life, really. We have a cook and nannies…and we don’t live in separate houses, thank you very much.”
My defiant mission statement. Michael sitting next to me- his eyes more in my blouse than anywhere else.
Pervert.
Why in the hell does that word make my heartrate go up?
Is it the word or is it his name?
Great. Don’t they have some sort of betablockers for him? And his godammn eyes. The eyes that drank me in earlier tonight, leaving my soul an empty cup. Crushing it up like paper ware, tossing it into the corner with my panties. The eyes that still hold my heart prisoner. The eyes that dared me to deliver on the promise of my twisted version of a birthday present. He should have stuck with his old faith. Not accepting presents would maybe have been the way to go.
What? Was it my fault he didn't ignore me?
What? Was it my fault he didn't ignore me?
So, what if my shirt said, Bite Me. It wasn’t like it was meant for him.
No, it was meant for your husband, right? The one not present tonight. The one your mother swooned over on your wedding day and probably had nasty dreams on our wedding night.
And what a wedding night it had been!
Well, maybe I should have sent Nic over to Priscilla’s room. Or to hell. The outcome would have been the same. No sex for me that night (not sure what he did after he stormed out…maybe one of us got lucky). Hard to get down and dirty when you're drunk and crying, curled up in a weeping mess on the floor. Trapped in a white dress. And in a stifling pile of defiance.
So, how does all this matter now? And what in the name of all that is holy am I doing in an elevator, trying to bribe this lady?
You know why. Because it would kill you to know he is laying even one finger on her.
What the fuck is wrong with him, anyway? An escort service? Seriously? Is that how he’s getting by?
Is that why he didn’t want me earlier? Did he stop just in time ‘cause he remembered that I’m nothing but an ugly, needy, fucked up addict? Oh, yeah, he’s the candyman and the candy all in one. The keeper of the poison I need to survive.
Well, good, Lisa, you pride yourself on honesty. Isn’t it wonderful that the rug has been once again pulled from under the tower of fragile glass you built? Lies, lies, lies: Telling myself I didn’t care it was his birthday. And it didn’t matter he would be at the award show. No, not for one fucking moment did I plan on provoking him. Rubbing in how swell I’m doing. How marvelously happy my newest marriage is making me.
The marriage he refused to save me from.
“You wanna marry him- go ahead. You think you love him- well, great, that would explain you fucking around with him all this time. What I can’t figure out is you being in my bed half the time, but hey…it’s time I gave up on figuring you out.”
Was he nuts? No, it was his job to figure me out- that was his role. What happened?
Well, maybe, just maybe, Lisa, you finally wore him down and he doesn’t want to play anymore.
No, not possible. Mike didn’t stop till he won. If he wants something, that is.
Bingo, loser.
He is done wanting you.
Yeah, sure, he might have mentioned that the moment he had me in a corner of a dressing room, bent over a chair, my ass bare to him, his fingers in my pussy making me bite my hand, trying not to scream as he made me cum.
That damn, fucking bastard.
But he didn’t fuck you, did he, Lisa?
No, of course not. He thought he was having steak tonight. Why would he have fastfood?
And no, my throat is not constricting in time with my heart beat at the thought. The pain is not as intense as ever. Because I am not letting it happen. And if I ignore it, it doesn’t exist.
So why am I here? Obviously, I don’t care if this is like a return trip to hell. I'm Frodo in this drama- bravely facing the bubbling lava, staring down certain death. But yeah, just like Frodo, I cannot not let go of my “precious.”
And, since I had taken my pal Alecia back to her hotel, I am also minus one faithful friend who would carry me in a labor of love.
It's just me, myself, and I this time. Or always. What a joke: having to depend on the sickest and most twisted person in the universe. No, second most twisted and sickest person. I gotta give credit where it's due. The motherfucker waiting in the VIP suite for his hooker was, as always, Number One.
11:20 pm
"Miss Lisa, is that you? What are you doing here?"
Shit!
So much for the success of my undercover mission. Why was his body guard not guarding his precious body? Heaven knows, Michael never ran out of things to feel paranoid about that were either wrong with him or could potentially harm him.
What was I doing here? Here, being the hotel he was staying in. Well, it really was not my fault at all. Too much vodka made me do it. Hurt pride, lingering anger, intense lust, and booze did not mix. There came a point when I had to choose between passing out drunk or throwing the bottle away to face real destruction. As always, I chose poorly.
My phone conversation with my dear husband had not helped matters. Nor, did my mother's email.
Loved your “stylish” outfit, Lisa-Marie. I had hoped your husband would successfully inspire you to be a lady.
Too hilarious. Nic didn't want a lady. He wanted a collector's item he could take off the shelf and fuck. Well, if only he knew what he was doing. Thank goodness he liked toys. That way I could at least have some semi- satisfying sex. Lately, it had been one failure after another. Last time I had given in and studied the pattern on my ceiling (funny, how I had never before noticed there were infinity symbols up there- matching Nic's never- ending thrusting movements), he had been mad at me for not being able to get me off.
Not my fault what they said about size not mattering was a damn lie invented by women putting up with needle-dicks. And by needle- dicks...
If at least his movements would stir something- anything. But all I could think about was a Discovery Channel documentary about bunnies humping away on each other. Only, Mrs Bunny had looked much happier than I was, trying to think of any sexy thought to get me at least back to semi wet, so he would not start a fire down there. No matter how appropriate smoke signals calling for help were...
If at least his movements would stir something- anything. But all I could think about was a Discovery Channel documentary about bunnies humping away on each other. Only, Mrs Bunny had looked much happier than I was, trying to think of any sexy thought to get me at least back to semi wet, so he would not start a fire down there. No matter how appropriate smoke signals calling for help were...
Tonight, he had been extra annoying. I wanted to reach through the phone and knock the superior asshole off his high horse. Was there ever a time the way he speaks had been amusing? Such a fucking fake!
Maybe I should tell him I had finally had a good orgasm again. Courtesy of my ex. But no, I was good. That was one thing which was always kept intact, no matter how bad things got: the sanctity of my relationship with Michael. When we made love, it always was like a secret inner mystery for a sect if two- meant only for him and me.
So, no, despite Nic’s efforts to bait me, I stayed outwardly cool and collected- the inner cartoon of shaking him like one of those jibber-jabber toys had to suffice.
"Might you have chosen a more appropriate, attire, Lisa-Marie?"
Did he and mother swap out dialogues? I'm all for recycling, but this was ridiculous.
"You saw what I wore? Good, you know what it said, then."
Seems the message was fit for husbands and ex-husbands alike. All in one offending. Kill 'em with a broad sweep.
"Fine. Go with the trailer trash image, if you think it suits you. But could you be mindful that you are my wife and act accordingly?"
Ok, I had to fold- I had to light up. Quitting smoking and being married don't go hand in hand.
"Why, what did I do now that meets your disapproval? I thought we had it covered that you're not my boss. Or my father."
So what if that sounded a tad bit defensive? I was pretty sure he would not like the idea of my latest backstage activities. But he was not the reason I felt guilty. Not when really, my body had simply done the logical thing. It still only recognized one man as my husband. Body and heart were eternally battling my brain, which keeps telling them it’s high time to move on. Well, my good ole grey matter just took another overwhelming defeat. And accordingly got punished by being dowsed with vodka.
"Lisa, are you sure your motives for acting up have nothing to do with him? I saw he was there. Whacked out as always."
Come on, girl, count to ten and take a sip. And another drag. He's just picking a fight. Don't say a thing. You know why Michael was distracted. No need to defend him. Nic is feeling threatened, and he should be. When push came to shove (lovely phrase and very fitting in this situation) there was no contest.
Silence.
"Nothing? No reaction? Ok, then..."
What’s wrong, Nikki,boy? Can’t get my goat? That’s ‘cause I see through your insecure bullshit.
"If you were bored enough to watch tv, why didn't you just come with me and see it all live?"
There you go! It's really his fault you could not keep your hands off Michael's crotch.
Had he been there, I might have not been quite as pushy and provocative. And maybe Michael would not have flirted with everyone while ignoring me. Which is like setting fire to an oil barrel.
"Ah- you do miss me."
Yeah, like having dental surgery without lidocaine.
Anyway, that conversation left me more irritable than before. What was it with men and me? And why, did I think it was such a bright idea to go to the damn MTV Video Music Awards tonight? Like I don’t have all this crappy history there. The kiss…me seething mad, shooting daggers up at my oh so sexy husband…A reel of embarrassment. And now today. Seeing him in those damn pants- knowing he had sensed me there. Having to endure him joking with Alecia while his eyes kept gliding over my outfit. Or lack thereof. Michael has this way of caressing me with his eyes and his presence which was so subtle it was undetectable by anyone but my nerve endings. And, boy, my body knew it.
I'm such an idiot! Why would I put iron nails next to a magnet if I expected them to not follow laws of physics?
The really fucked up thing was that I also know his buttons. Every single one. And I pushed the secret combination that got my ass dragged off into a room. His anger was the greatest turn on, and his almost brutal kiss shoved me off the cliff. When he turned lethal and switched it up to deep sensual, slow kisses, I didn’t even exist in this world anymore. I had been transported. To our universe. Where nothing else mattered. Least of all pesty husbands or superfluous wives. All that mattered there were the sensations and emotions. One might think I chased this man around the world for meaningless sex. But sadly, my lunacy runs so much deeper.
Meaningless sex I have had over and over and over. And the only thing that hurts about that is when I escape into my own world behind closed lids, and then have reality crash down on me once I open my eyes and get assaulted by the realization that he is not there in person. His presence only in my head, my body invaded by someone I could not care about enough to make the sex leave any lingering trace of relief. Only a craving for Michael. And deep, intense desperation.
Still, meaningless sex I can survive.
What kills me little by little is that fucked up connection Michael and I have. What did he say to me once before?
“I was not a whole person until I met you, until I held you in my arms, until I became part of you, became rejoined with the other half of my soul that had been ripped from me way before conception. Lisa, we are one- always meant to be one. And we can’t be apart. You know how they said, till death do you part? Well, I don’t care – because I know in death we will once again be joined forever. Till then, we just gotta hold on and give into fate. But I die when I am not with you. I exist, but I can’t live.”
Words I had wished I had never heard, because they hold a truth so absolute and undeniable. Oh, I tried to invalidate them and act in every way conceivable to prove the sentiments were just a figment of his crazy ass genius brain.
And so, after he did the impossible and left me after we made out, after he proved to me he could reduce me to a crying , whimpering puddle, after he slammed me down to earth when he just had sent me soaring, I was sure as hell not going to just go away quietly.
How dare he treat me like some groupie whore?
I was ignoring the fact that indeed he had taken care of my ravenous hunger and left unsatisfied himself. When I could tell he had wanted me. My hands had been on the iron proof. I had him in my mouth for the shortest of blissful minutes. He had stopped me, kissed me, turned me, lifted my skirt…Now the short scrap of fabric was the best idea of the week. And, when he took my top off and bit my shoulder, I knew the Bite Me shirt was also a definite hit.
Memories slashing me, bleeding me dry…
No, I could not re-live it again. But I was sure as hell going to tell him that this was the last time I would ever again put myself into a situation to be taken advantage of by him. Either that, or I’d have him screw my brain out. It could go either way.
The plan had been to sneak into his hotel. It had taken me exactly five minutes to find out where he was staying. I wasn’t a novice at this game. My name holds power- as does my bank account. Oh, my connections don’t hurt either. We have friends that have resigned themselves to the Olympic chess game consisting of push and pull. They roll their eyes, sigh, and hand over the information. Since they do it for both of us, it’s not like we feel played. No, we are simply enabled in our co-dependent dance.
His security might be a slight issue. But I know most of them- and there was a card blanche understanding that despite everything we had done and said to each other, I still have unrestricted access to him. At times, it amazes me when they simply nodd, give me a crooked, knowing smile, and step aside. Funny, though, ‘cause it still makes me blush.
I had not expected to be spotted in the lobby, though. But hey, no big deal.
“Hi there, Paul- right? How are you tonight?”
“I’m well, Miss. Are you here to see the boss?”
No, I’m here to tour this lovely lobby. I hear the cucumber water is delightful.
Poor man- I’d spare him my sarcasm tonight- I was feeling super charitable.
“Yes, I have some business to run by him.”
How in the world did I keep a straight face? And how did he? Mike’s men are all trained in Lisa-counter-terrorism, that’s how. Yes, I’m a freedom fighter- fighting for my freedom to be with him despite my own efforts to enslave myself to other losers.
“Is he expecting you?”
Poor Paul was now inspecting the shiny material of his shoes. This was new.
“Ah, probably. We had made arrangements earlier at the award show.”
What’s a little white lie?
“Fucking hell, Lisa. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I got carried away. I…I… “
He had pulled my skirt down, brushing it, as if to erase any wrinkles. I turned and stared up at him through eyes still blinded by pure light.
“Don’t- don’t say that. I’m not sorry.”
“I love you. And you’re married.”
It was ‘state-redundant facts’ time, obviously.
“And that’s stopped us before -when? I love you -and you just went baby shopping again. You really wanna get into how we got here?”
Obviously, he didn't. Neither one of us needed a re-run of our last deadly battle. Which had also been the last time we had seen each other face to face before tonight. His hand raked through his hair. How come he always looked perfect, even when he was a red hot mess?
“Gosh, girl, you get me so worked up. But no- we gotta stop this. You made your choice. Let me know when you’re free. You know where to find me. This is not the place. I do want you..but…”
No shit. I could tell he was messed up. Not much of that cocky venire left this time. For some reason, this encounter had shaken him. Which was only fair. Sure as hell, I felt like I just survived an earthquake. I never had meant for things to go this far. I just wanted to…
What?
Make him admit he misses me? Make him say that he should have stopped me, fought for me? Punish him for once again not trying hard enough to encourage me to go after our dream? Punish myself for backing out?
I didn’t even realize I was crying till he reached over and captured the tear with his fingers. Then, he pulled my head toward him, kissing me, making me taste the anguish on his tongue. Bitter-sweet.
His eyes closed, he turned and stalked toward the door. Everything in me screamed for him to take my hand and run away with me from this madness. No doubt, I would have followed. I would have left all this behind gladly. All I needed was Michael- and my kids. If I could take them and make all of us disappear into our version of a sheltered snow globe, I would. Our own sparkly, world- safe and perfect.
His hand reached for the lock and he stilled. His head dropped. I hate when he looks defeated. It scares the holy shit out of me.
“I love you so much it hurts. And maybe it’s time we face that we gotta stop this madness.”
Before I could respond, he was gone. And as I hear, just in time to join frigging Brittany Spears on stage. And maybe she could look like she did not want to rip his clothes off? Little bitch!
Hopefully, Paul had not been shadowing Mike earlier tonight. I am pretty sure his guys know where he is all the time. And when I’m anywhere around, they all have a pretty good idea what’s going on when they can’t find him.
“Well, Miss, Lisa…Let me call up and check, ok?”
“You know what? Just tell me where he is and I’ll be on my way. I wanna surprise him.”
I started for the elevator. I have stayed at this place before and I had already gotten my tip which floor he had his suites on.
Behind my back, I heard him mumbling into his two-way radio.
“Miss Presley…! Hold up”
Oh, it was ‘Miss Presley’ now? What was going on? I felt like someone whose credit card had been declined at the store.
I stopped and waited for him to catch up.
“I just checked. It’s not a good idea to go up. He is..ah…indisposed.”
What did that mean?
“Is he sick?”
Well, of course he is. He’s definitely the sickest man I ever met. He is my cure and my illness.
“No, he’s fine. But… Um….He’s expecting company.”
“At midnight?”
Well, close to midnight, anyway.
At that moment, my attention was caught by a gorgeous woman entering like a vision from a 40s movie. She was escorted by a man who could have been Paul’s twin.
“I gotta go, Miss Lisa. Please, call tomorrow. I know the boss will be thrilled to see you then.”
My eyes narrowed. Oh, what in the world was going on here? I looked from the diva to Paul and to his twin, who was steering Greta Garbo (ok, a Greta Garbo with red hair) straight toward us.
I can be so dumb sometimes! But when I get it- I really do! And at that moment, understanding hit me like a thousand volts.
He was expecting that chick. Who was she? And why was she here? She looked like a…
Hell no!
Paul motioned toward the other guy and he stopped, his arms on the lady’s arm. She also stopped and looked up at him slightly confused.
“Is that who he is expecting? Who the hell is she? And why does she look like a highly paid hooker.”
Don’t’ ask questions you already know the answer to, Lisa.
“Ah..she is a friend… She… Look, Miss Lisa, I’m sorry, but I gotta take her upstairs. He’s waiting. You know how he gets…”
He used to hate waiting for me. It was ok if he was hours late. Different rule book.
“I don’t give a flying…I mean, I don’t care right now. Look, let me talk to her.”
He looked as if I had just told him I was going to murder him- and his family.
“No way, Miss Lisa. This is so not a good idea…Please...”
“Look, I can either make a scene right here right now about Mr Jackson having an escort service employee taken to his suite, or you let me talk to her for a minute. I won’t hurt her. I promise. And I won’t let him hurt you. I got your back.”
My innocent sincerity must have finally convinced him. Either that or he was blown by really not knowing how to deal with the crazy little ex-Mrs. Jackson.
Which is how I ended up in the elevator with a hooker.
11:50 pm
“So, let me get this straight. You are offering me double of what I may or may not earn otherwise if I just leave.”
Smart girl. The red dye had obviously not seeped into her brain yet. If only she would stop pretending she was not a working girl.
“Look, it sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me. And you get a night of rest. Believe me, you are way better off. You look like you need your beauty rest.”
“Except that I may not have a job anymore if a client- if indeed I had a client tonight- would complain.”
Once I’m done with him, he won’t have the strength to complain, sweetie-pie. Hard to bitch when your balls have been cut off and stuffed into your mouth.
I really hate when he gets me this violent. Mostly, because I have no filter when it comes to him. Everything is undiluted. My thoughts turn to pure hydrochloric acid- ready to dissolve everything touched. So Lolita better watch out.
“What do you care, again? Are you his wife?”
She gives me the once-over and I’m way too irritated to care that I probably look like a little school girl in my jeans and shirt. Despite my heels, she’s still taller than me. Since when does he like to fuck giants? Or fuck anyone but me? What the hell is this about?
“Close enough. Believe me, you don’t wanna be in the middle of this. Plus, let me give you a hint…I know for a fact he is being treated with antibiotics right now. As am I… Does that give you a clue of what I’m saying?”
At this point, I don’t even care anymore what she thinks. I just need her to understand that she needs to go. I’m serious about one thing: Mike and I are both sick and twisted- and anyone who attempts to get in the middle of our disease ends up changed forever. As this poor woman found out when I hit the emergency brake button. I guess before then, she thought I was just someone working for the man.
I can virtually see the visions of horrible STDs dancing through her head like drunken skeletons. Hey, I don’t care if she knows who hired her for tonight, but if she does, she is bound by confidentiality agreements anyway. Not that anyone would believe Michael suffering from venereal diseases contracted during heterosexual activities. Not spectacular enough to write about. Right now, all I care about is that she disappears. She is nothing but an innocent bystander in the drama about to unfold.
Amazingly, my plan works. Gotta love my poker-face. You just aim to give them the impression you don’t give a shit and you can snow your audience perfectly. I am a master of projecting remote disinterest. If you give them your feelings honestly, they will steal them, twist them, and use the resulting rope to string you up publically. So no, she never saw just how much it cost me to keep my cool.
Next stop: Letting it all out. And hope the atomic blast will kill both him and me.
11:58
Paul looked sick when I brought her back down- but at this point he had resigned himself to the fact that I was going to get him fired. He needn’t have worried. Dead men don’t fire bodyguards.
Security in front of the suite had obviously also been filled in that the little woman was back and was wreaking havoc once again.
“Boss, you’re company is here. …Ok…”
Turning back to me, I get a nod and a “Good luck. Oh, and he doesn’t know it’s you. No one around here is brave enough to tell him. So, it’s up to you. He wants her- eh, you, to wait in the salon. Gonna go and take cover now.”
He makes me laugh. I like this guy- he has balls; and enough brains to know when to clear the deck. I think his name is Joel.
I don’t feel the need to knock and take advantage of the door that had been held open for me. The element of surprise is a wonderful thing. And I aim to blow the motherfucker out of the water with it. My internal reactor is now in red-zone meltdown mode.
The room seems warm. I know he always feels cold. We both run hot, which probably makes any air around us seem chilled. Right now, I’m steaming.
He is nowhere to be found- that’s right. The lady is expected to sit around and wait for his royal highness to appear. How often has he done this before? Is this a first time thing? And why tonight? Had he planned this before I brought our planets on another collision course or was this toddler-like defiance reaction.
Maybe it’s a celebration of his liberty. Free from you. Maybe he noticed today that you’re just not worth the headaches anymore.
Or maybe he is just a horny little bastard who finally has succumbed to his madonna-or-whore complex and has decided that all women are sluts anyway. So, why not pay for one. The really, totally, fucked up annoying part is to know that he could have had my ass for free. My head is starting to pound and I feel like my throat is on fire. I must be coming down with something.
Oh, good. I spot the bar. And he even has some cranberry juice ready. Surely, he won’t mind me getting a bit liquid encouragement. Knowing him, he already got his. Michael does not maintain his squeaky clean image when no-one is watching. He can outdrink me- which is quite a feat.
“I’m sorry, I had to take a phone call from overseas. I am so sorry to make you wait...”
I feel him enter the room before I hear his voice. His aura always pushes ahead. The air stirs and sizzles, making the hair on my arms stand up.
Hello Daddy.
Part 2:- (updated 8-7-11)
Part 2:- (updated 8-7-11)
12:05 am
He stops abruptly, and I know he saw me. The way I’m dressed right now, no one could confuse me with a high class escort. Least of all the man who knows every outline of my body.
I hear him inhale sharply. Time stands still and everything goes into pause mode. Everything, but my hand, which lifts the glass one more time to take a sip.
I close my eyes and put on the “princess facade,” as he calls it.
Slowly I turn to face him. I don't expect to see anything but a controlled mask as by now he had ample time to erase the surprise. Too bad I missed most of it. Still, his mouth is just now closing. Guess the surprise worked.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The soft voice comes with a deadly stinger.
The wounded heart mafia sent me, Mike, the jig is up, and I want your head on a platter.
“Getting a drink?”
The confident hue makes it almost sound possible. If only my hand wasn’t trembling, the rattling of the ice betraying my true state. I’m a mess inside.
He shakes his head and a sarcastic laughter escapes.
“Why, you emptied out your own hotel bar? Hope you don’t mind if I join you.”
“Hope you don’t mind that I joined you.”
His eyes look at me from behind his curtain of hair as he pours a drink.
“I had something else in mind. But I guess you’ll do.”
Perfect. Just what I need. Encouragement to dig his heart out with a spoon. Keep up the cocky tone, you little wired freak!
“Yeah, I met the little lady in the elevator. Hope you didn’t plan on forking out a fortune. She looked a bit worn.”
“Where did you stash her body?”
“Why, are you into necrophilia these days?”
“You’re gross.”
“Well, I guess so. Since you couldn’t get rid of me quickly enough today. What was that about? What am I? Your fluffer? Wanted to keep the hard on going for the paid show? Can’t get any for free, Mike?”
Why am I losing my cool? The plan is for me to stay nonchalant and disconnected. Too bad my soul is tethered to the mothership right in front of me, and it hurts like hell to see him trying to sever the ties.
“As a matter of fact I had several offers today, thank you.”
I swear I did not mean to throw that glass. As a matter of fact, I jump more than he when it hits the wall behind him. Guess part of him knew what was coming, and he was ready for the dodge.
We stare at each other, and I can't stop from shaking with rage. This is about so much more than feeling rejected tonight. It’s about feeling small and not worth any serious effort on his part.
Its about never being taken into consideration. It's always about his vision- and when things don't go as planned he comes up with alternate solutions that fit him. To hell with anyone else. It started with him wanting a baby right then and there, and it ended with more of the same. When I asked him if he had not learned anything in almost 7 years, his answer was that obviously, he was not going to involve Debbie again. But no- my fears didn't matter on that go-around, either.
Michael's laugher startles me out of my ruminations. What the fuck is so funny about me using him for target practice?
"Girl, you' some kind of crazy!"
Predictably, the phone rings. Poor Paul, or whoever is sitting watch, is making sure crazy Miss Presley is not killing their poor little boss. How sweet. Makes me wanna barf.
"Yes, thank you. I'm fine. No, it was just a small accident. Sorry to startle you.- No, we’ll get it, thank you."
While he is distracted, my guilty conscience is kicking in. Shit! How does he do that? How does me make me lose my mind? Good thing I saved the cranberry juice for later. Vodka on the rocks is not all that difficult to clean up. At least I gotta get the…
"Lisa. For heaven's sake. Leave the glass. You’re gonna cut yourself. I'll have it cleaned up later."
I'm mumbling something about not wanting anyone stepping on the shards as I stay crouched down, collecting the sparkling pieces like a child enthralled by seashells. When he steps up behind me, I feel his closeness as a direct punch to my stomach. There are times I'm so tired of the constant pain.
"I think we both are. But we keep coming back for more anyway..."
The reply makes me realize my thoughts had escaped their confines and tumbled free.
There is a nice wind-chime like sound resulting from discarding the evidence of my explosive rage as I drop the glass into a wastebasket. Somehow, I hold on to one interestingly cut piece of crystal.
I notice Michael gazing at it and then targeting me with his hypnotic stare.
That's right, Daddy. You should be worried. You know my old set of tools.
The feel of the smooth surface in my cold hand is oh so familiar. We all have our very personal ways to relieve pain. His is found in an orange bottle- mine at the end of a sharp instrument. At times, the internal screams have ways to manifest externally. For the first time in a long while, I enter the forbidden room with the secret escape hatch. Too bad nothing about me is concealed to him.
"Lise...?"
His voice is very soft and tender. So sweet, so caring...Too bad I know it's all a lie.
Through narrowed eyes, I admire the play of light as I hold the shiny toy up to the light.
"So pretty, so sparkling…catching the light. Giving illusions of rainbows... And yet potentially so dangerous. With the power to hurt, the power to kill. Kinda like you..."
"Gimme the glass, Lisa. You don't wanna play like this."
"I don't? How come you always know how I wanna play, Daddy? Or how come you always presume to know?"
"Give it to me, Lisa. I don't want you hurt."
"So why do you keep at it?"
"Lise, I'm not gonna talk to you ‘till you throw this away."
His sincerity makes me laugh. What's he worried about? This stupid powerless thing can't come close to cutting as deep as a word from him. Or the absence thereof. His special weapons after all are arctic frozen vacuums where razor sharp icicles punctuate every unspoken syllable.
Our eyes lock. Those dark magnets can make me do the most amazing things. They guide my highest hopes and my darkest nightmares. And the most fucked up truth is that by now I do realize he does love me. What I can't figure out to save my soul is if his kind if love is simply poisonous to me, if he can't love me the way I need to be loved, or if I’m crippled by my fear to accept what has been offered. Why else do I play dodge ball when his feelings come flying at me?
I'm not sure what devil is riding me, but the demon moves the piece if glass down my arm in a soft, almost caressing move. Fascinated, I watch his Adams apple move as he swallows.
"So, what will you do to keep me whole for another round of this, Michael? What will you promise? Will you tell me you will always love me? That I'm the other half of your being? Don't you know that those are the knives that really carve me up?"
His eyes dart to my arm, following the light pink trace being careful to not apply pressure. Then they are making me drown again. How can anything in this world be this hot and so cold at the same time? How can they project so much love and so much pain?
"I do love you, Lisa-Marie. I don't know what I can say or do to prove it. And I try to do right by you and stay away. You made your position clear and I had to work hard to accept your choices. It's not what I wanted. You know it's not."
God, I hate when he uses my full name. Or logic. Wong card to play, Daddy.
Just slightly more pressure: not enough to break the skin, but enough to leave a nice scratch. I don't even have to look to know where my scars decorate my wrist. X marks the treasure chest...
He blinks.
"What the fuck do you want from me, Lisa? What do you want from me? You came after me today. You provoked the shit out of me with that skirt, that shirt, your eyes... What did you think you were playing at? If you wanted my ass so badly, why not just show up at my home, like you normally do? You know, your favorite game: the fuck and run routine. So, I didn't feel like being played by you this time. Now, what is this? Gimme the rules so I can make the move you want me to make."
Okay, that's better. I can finally get some honesty when the tight control snaps and the truth leaks out from the sealed barrel of radioactive material.
"Tell me why you hired a fucking hooker. Why, Michael? What the hell was that about?"
My own anger distracts me to allow for him to dart forward in one smooth move, and capture the wrist of the hand holding my shiny trump card. Dammit!
"You're hurting me! Let go!"
His hand is like a vice, cutting off my blood flow, making my fingers tingle. My heart is jealous of the impending numbness.
“Drop it, dammit.”
When it falls to the floor, he immediately grabs, it, takes the wastebasket, and shoves it out the front door. Paralyzed, I stand there and watch him. He might have said something to his detail about calling it a night. Guess he doesn’t want any more witnesses to what’s about to happen. Slaughter and mayhem Jackson and Presley style.
Michael comes back and grabs my shoulders, shaking me.
“Lisa, Lisa, what the hell was that about. You damn, crazy, idiotic, messed up…”
When he pulls me close into his embrace, my body initially tenses up, until I crumble against him, sobbing. He holds me, one hand protectively in my hair, the other against me so tightly it almost hurts. The right kind of pain, for once.
I realize I finally succeeded in scaring him. But it’s a hollow victory.
“You can hurt me all you want, just promise, promise you not gonna do that to yourself again. Please, promise me, Lisa. I can’t deal with that- not that kind of fear…” His whispers force me to back up a bit which gives him enough time to grab my head with both hands and our lips collide. The taste of our tears mingles with the taste of life. I inhale him, drink him, let his tongue caress me back out of the darkness.
The kiss sedates me and almost makes me forget.
Before we pass out, he breaks away, and we stand there, panting, staring at each other. His face is so close, it is difficult to focus on details. Not that it matters, the backdrop to my world once again consists of the velvet cloak of his eyes.
“Why, Michael… Why’d you do it? Why wasn’t I enough? Why did you hire her?”
He blinks and his eyes narrow.
“I didn’t wanna feel.”
The simplicity of the answer speaks volumes.
What was that about being careful to ask for the truth?
Shit! I know exactly what he means.
My sad smile is reflected back to me. He knows I get it.
Now, I feel guilty. What right do I have to question him? If only the jealousy didn’t burn so brightly. And yet this was a cup of poison I had forced him to drink from over and over again.
“Have you done it before?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah, the hell it does.”
“Why, Lisa?” He backs up now, his eyes leaving me. “Why does it matter to you?”
“Because it does.”
He moves over to pour himself another drink.
“You want details?”
“You are such a bastard!”
No, the fuck I don’t need details. I have them running in a forbidden x-rated, painfully torturous reel in my head. I know how he moves. I know his sounds. I know how he reaches out and caresses all those secret places. I know how his body tenses as he makes his pleasure last. I know the exact moment the control breaks, and I know how his eyes look when his orgasm takes him away. I know how he bites his lip and how his porcelain skin flushes. What I don’t know is how another woman’s name sounds as he cries out. Would he kiss her? Hold her, speak to her in that intoxicating way?
I want to cry. The images won’t leave- no matter how tightly I close my eyes.
“Am I? Really Lisa? What? Can’t stand the thought of me giving it to someone else? You can spread those legs, and I have to live with it, right? I have to hear your moans in my head when I imagine you twisting under those men you punish me with. The men you parade around publicly, the ones you get engaged to like it’s nothing, the ones you marry. But I do something in private, to get the fuck over having to live another day without you, and you blow up at me? Do you see me rubbing it in your face? And I’m the bastard? You got some nerve…”
He empties the drink.
Of course he is right. I’m the real bastard here. The real shit bag. But once again, the red cloud rises and anger protects me from what I know to be the truth. I have to know.
“Why can’t you just answer? How many have you fucked? How often have you paid for it?”
“We all pay for it, don’t we, Mrs Cage? How often do you fuck him? Or is that any better just because your form of prostitution is legally sanctioned?”
“I shouldn’t have come here. I’m leaving.”
Maybe I can outrun the marathon of his truth.
“Well, I assume you came here before you knew what entertainment I had planned for tonight. What did you want? Unless you came here to do what you judge me for. Unless you once again were gonna be my…”
“What Michael? Your whore?”
“I wasn’t gonna say that…”
Why not? Why the hell would he stop there? Maybe that’s what I am in his eyes. I certainly know how to play the part. Except, my payment always seems to be intense anguish and self-hatred.
“So, what are you willing to pay, Mr Jackson? Obviously, I disrupted your plans. And I happen to know you were hard up earlier…”
My eyes find the growing evidence of his desire. What is it about our arguments that turn both of us on like that?
The only reasonable way to solve this disaster is to just walk out and forget this night ever happened. Yeah. Too bad I am too far past that decision point. I want him to pay. I want him to feel. I want him to partake in the misery of witnessing the absolute destruction of our souls.
He laughs. The sound never reaches his eyes. The expression is dead serious.
“Are you for real? Why?”
“Maybe the same reason…I don’t wanna feel.”
His eyebrow rises, and he gives me the look that lets me know he is aware that I’m full of shit.
“Except you know you will. ‘Cause unlike what you may have gotten used to, I can light you up so brightly you’ll burn for days.”
The cocky glint is back. The one I can’t resist. It pushes all kind of buttons in me and floods me with heat and wetness. I’m burning for you already, Daddy- and I always will. Which does not mean I’m passing up a nice dip into molten lava. I am that sick. And so is he.
We walk around each other like a pair of lions, sizing up the opponent, looking for a weakness. Which is funny, considering we’d only need to look in the mirror to spot it.
“How do you know I’m not getting that fire from another source? You think you’ the only game in town?”
“Same way you know the kind of company I had planned on tonight cannot erase you from my mind.”
“So why bother? Revenge?”
“Yeah, every thrust would stick it to you, Lisa.”
The tone is so sarcastic, I don’t know if he is realizing how close to the truth he might be. How do I know? ‘Cause I have had my share of senseless revenge fucks. It never quite works out the way I plan, though. Maybe men are different.
“Well- I’m right here now. Too scared to give it to me straight? Can’t handle it- again? Right now, all I hear is you talking out your ass.”
This time his laughter is real. The kind I know rises from deep inside and makes you giggle right along.
“Girl, you’ nuts! You don’t know what’s good for y’a.”
My eyes rest on the part of him that I know is indeed very good. Too good. Maybe if I can make this all about sex, I can prove something to myself. For the life of me I don’t know what that “something” would be. But the moth has absolutely no willpower to change her flight plan. Straight into the flame it is!
Michael reaches out and grabs my arm, forcing me to stumble into him. His hand comes around me, grabs my ass and grinds into me. There is nothing tender in his touch. And maybe tender is not what I need right now. I’m ready for that revenge. To take it – and to exert it. The full package deal.
Speaking of- I feel his package burning into me. And this time, he will not get away with rendering me weak and powerless. I want to feel him trembling against me and inside me. I need to see his eyes light up and I need to hear him scream his surrender. I don’t care if it’s the last time. Maybe it’ll provide me with enough fuel to go on just a little while longer.
I reach up and pull him down to me. This is the point that always feels like a dive off a cliff. One full breath and take flight. His kiss steals me breath and really, I don’t need it anymore. I’m on a different life line now. When he pulls my head back by my hair to gain access to my neck, I use the small distance between us to reach down and pull his shirt out of his pants. Sure, I could waste time by unbuttoning it, but why bother. He has enough money to get a new one or have the little obstacles sewn back on. As I sent them flying, I notice he backed me into a wall. The impact stuns me temporarily and his eyes find mine to make sure I am unharmed.
Silly man- no wall can hurt me. I think he got that figured out because he reaches down and opens my jeans. Well, if this is a competition, I’m about to beat him, as I am a master of helping him out of his tight confines. One hand massages him through the material, as the other opens his button and fly. I feel his penis grow more under my touch. His mouth finds me neck at the same time as he pushes my pants over my hips. Reaching into his pants, I find his length and he moans, his eyes finding me, my name tumbling from his lips.
He is so big, so hot, so hard. His eyes close and his head falls back, offering me the most wonderful treat: his gorgeous neck. I watch his erratic pulse for a second before I cannot contain myself. I have to kiss his skin- the salty yet clean taste to so familiar to me- I am starving for him, literally. My tongue draws circles on his skin while one hand holds him with the pressure I know he needs. The soft skin slides along the iron core- I reach the tip and find it moist. That’s right, Mike- for all your talk, I know you are as desperate for me as I am for you.
A different kind of hunger suffuses me. As always, he reads my mind, and his hand comes to rest on mine. My gaze dips and I watch his fingers cover mine. That man has such a huge palm, but it looks almost small resting on the size of his cock. Holy shit- a tremble races through my body and my panties are flooded.
I step over the jeans he pushed down and get ready to get down on my knees. His eyes stop me. Oh, I forgot. Leaving his heat for a second, I know how he likes to see me do this. I about rip my shirt off and toss my hair. I know he loves it long as I wear it now.
The licking of his lips gives me the go ahead.
“That’s right baby, take if off so I can see what you wanted me to bite earlier. You know how I like it, baby girl…”
Do I ever! Even though I was not all that specific about where I wanted his teeth and his mouth..his hot tongue… But we’d get to that later. I know my man. Right now, my goal is to blow his mind.
Slowing things down a bit, I reach behind me to open my bra. Michael keeps one hand on his dick and starts to pump himself slowly. Holy shit! He knows what this does to me, and predictably, my breathing rate increases. Finally, he uses his free hand to get rid of his pants and his boxers. At the same time, I discard my bra. My hands find my breasts and I press them together, offering them to him with a smile.
“So beautiful…come here, girl…”
Michael knows how to accept a gift, and he bends forward, his tongue at first licking each tip, teasing them, wetting them, causing small needle prick of pleasure to race through my blood and into my core. The sound I emit sounds like a little cat and he chuckles. Then, after looking up at me for a second he greedily engulfs one peak, sucking it into his mouth, flattening it with his tongue, causing me to call out his name this time.
My head falls back and hits the wall, but I am well anesthetized by pleasure. The ache between my legs is taking on crazy proportions as the blood causes my folds to swell and pulsate. The little hidden nub is rubbing against the engorged walls of its prison, as I squirm, my thighs rubbing together.
He turns his attention to my other nipple and I can’t figure out why he isn’t putting his free hand to good use. My own fingers trace down my belly toward the flood zone barely contained by my thong.
“What’cha gonna do, naughy girl? Gonna touch yourself? My kisses not enough?”
His voice was a hoarse whisper, rasping over my pleasure centers in a lazy drag.
“You can use your hand any time you want to..I’m not holding you back…”
“What you’re saying, Princess? Want me to touch me?”
His smile can melt the frigging polar ice cap. And by my reaction, it seems like some glaciers inside of me have been reduced to pure liquid, leaving me open for his exploration.
I can almost feel his fingers on me- the memory is so vivid. I know what it feels like to have him touch me…even though the mere thought can never compete with the reality.
“Fuck yeah…”
My hand arrives at the drenched scrap of silk. His eyes observe the approach.
“Show me how to do it…”
As if he doesn’t know. But the thought of touching myself with his eyes on me as always gets me even more turned on. As he is well aware.
“Shit…” I can’t believe how engorged and sensitive I am. Well, my body has experienced his fingers earlier, and I had that sensation with me most of the night.
“You hot, girl? As hot as when I had my fingers buried in you earlier? When I touched all those magical places inside you, when you came against my hand and screamed my name?”
Fuck- he better be careful. Obviously, he has no clue how close I am again.
“As for it, Lisa. Ask to get that feeling again. And do it like a nice little girl, not like the bitch you can be…”
“Please, Mike. I need you to touch me…”
“Your what?”
The glint in his eyes was a mixture of erotic dominance and soft seduction. The master of my body- the owner of my book of secrets…
“Touch my dripping cunt, Michael. Please.”
“I think after the hell you put me through earlier, you need to earn that. I want that dirty mouth on my cock first. How’ bout it, Lisa?”
Little freak! That’s what I have been longing for anyway- before he sidetracked me.
He reaches over and pulls me into another wild and rousing kiss. Just when I fear to drown in the torrent, he pushes my shoulders down, putting me at his feet.
Submission and dominance, oh how they love to dance together until the boundaries are blurred.
His hand remains on his erection and he guides it toward my greedy mouth. I swallow once, as always at awe at the size of him. Even if I disregard our deep emotional connection, every time I am with him I am reminded that, from a physical perspective, no one can ever measure up to him.
Playing, he pulls back once and I pay him back by tracing the shaft with my tongue when I finally have him close.
“Lise, rub your pussy while you suck me. But don’t you dare cum. That will only happen at my hands tonight.”
Oh, he need not worry. While I am lingering at the edge of a crazy orgasm, I know what he has in store for me is ultimately sweeter. If I survive the buildup.
My fingers play with my slick folds and I know how to stay away from my clit. At the same time, my tongue enjoys its treat. It arrives at the head and I use a soft sweeping motions to surround it, finally granting myself the pleasure of capturing his precum on my lips. My free hand takes over while he uses his hands to hold me head, pulling back my hair, keeping me in place. Not that I would have moved away from him for all the money in the world right now. I am rooted in place , captured by his magic and his magic stick.
“Take it already…”
I have to smile before I do. The hiss conveys his urgency.
Holding his shaft, I let my mouth absorb as much of him as I can take. This is my power- I know the pressure to use, know the movement of my tongue aimed to drive him crazy, know how my own contained guttural moans drive him even further. The sounds emitted by him cause me to almost lose my mind. His hips now join the dance and I know he uses as much restraint as possible as he fucks me face. I want him to lose it- I need him to be pushed over the threshold this time.
I can feel him fight me, even as his penis hardens, extends, and jerks in my mouth.
His hands have stilled and he is frozen.
“Lise, no…don’t…you’re gonna…oh fucking hell…,” are the last words that are possibly before he dissolves into moans and sobs, my name spilling from his lips as his seed is forced into my mouth.
That’s right, sweet Daddy. I got you where I want you now. Give it all to me- don’t hold back. Our eyes meet for a second before he squeezes his shut and throws his head back. My hand stills and I remove it – not sure I can keep the issued order of not cuming in mind as I watch him being swept away.
The spasms slow down as I squeeze every last drop from him, greedily licking him, taking care to not torture him too much.
His chest rises and falls as if he just finished a marathon. When his eyes open, they contain that warm glow wrapping me into a secure blanket. Michael pulls me up. I know what comes next.
“You evil, perverted woman. You drive me insane. I love you more than I fear you…The things you make me do…” His kiss plunders my mouth. I almost protest when his lips leave mind, but since he now sucks on my neck and then dips lower to once again torture my breasts, the moans forced from me stifle any protests.
Finally, his hands are on me again- holding my breasts up to him at first, then following the line of my waist down to my hips. Carefully and deliberately, he traces my thong.
“Fuck- you are dripping out, Lise. Can he do that? Can he make you this hot without ever having touched your pussy?”
No answer is needed. Well, no verbalized reply, anyway. My hips are desperately attempting to call him closer.
Michael kisses back up my neck and finds my ears. One hand holds my hip still while the other manages to touch the material, the outside of my swollen sex and just about any area outside the hot zone I need him in. He’s punishing me. This is his revenge. He knows what I need and he knows how I die for him to touch me. But I did it again- I gave myself to someone else in my desperate search to deny the very needs only Michael can quench.
“Do you weep for him when you suck his dick? Do you die when he doesn’t let you cum? Can he make you forget to breath?”
Fuck no. No, no one but you.
My eyes give him the answer my mouth refuses to grant. No doubt he will have me begging and pleading soon, but for now I can hold out. Can hang on to the lie he already exposed.
“No, answer, hum, Lisa? Well, I feel what your body has to say through those drenches panties. I felt it earlier when your walls clenched my fingers. That was no ordinary cum, girl. That was a woman in desperate need. A woman not taken care of properly by her husband. A woman punishing herself by going against her nature. But it’s OK, baby girl. For tonight, I’ll make it right. I’ll remind you where your home is.”
As if I ever forgot. If I only managed that one feat, my life would be so much easier.
Michael’s next move startles me. I gaps when he tears the tiny piece of silk off me in one move.
“You won’t need that tonight. I want you to go home to him without it. I’ll keep it with me- till you give up this crazy nonsense and stop running. Don’t you know you only run from yourself?”
How dare he? How dare he assault me with the truth?
“How about you shut the fuck up and fuck me? Show me what you were gonna do to that hooker you hired. Because I promise you, she wouldn’t have put up with your mouth.”
“Oh really, I think she would have put up with a hell of a lot more than that. Anything for money, don’t you know it baby? And…”
He kissed me roughly then turned my body against him, making me face the wall, biting my neck and my shoulder.
“Since you decided you were standing in for her, you’re gonna put up with everything I gotta give you- till I am well and done with you, you little traitor.”
Doesn’t he know the only thing I cannot handle is the thought of him even thinking about touching another woman? Right or no right- he’s mine. And I’m about to prove it to him.
“Bring it on then, big guy. Show me what you can do- do I look scared to you?”
Yeah, I talk a big game- but I am really petrified. Because I know this will only drive me that much closer into madness. Maybe I’ll even go crazy enough to leave Nic and run toward the center of the storm. Right now I feel that I can do anything- as long as I have him near me like this.
“You should be, princess. We both should be…”
Pushing me forward he makes my arms brace against the wall. I know how he needs me and I spread my legs. The touch starts at the top of my spine. Vertebrae by vertebrae, his fingers climb down my back slowly, playing me like a keyboard. Arriving at my hips, he massages my ass, using both hands, increasing the pressure of his touch, no doubt leaving red marks on me. He spreads me and I shudder. I’m so open to him, I am his- to do with however he pleases. I can tell there is so much anger in him, but I also know he won’t hurt me.
Not in any traditional sense anyway. The most hurtful thing he has done today was fall for my provocation. This was nothing. Unless – if he didn’t fuck me soon, then I might have to file a protest for former spousal abuse. Denial of royal cobra. Cruel and unusual punishment, indeed.
“Lise, you’re dripping out girl. You want something pretty bad, hum?”
“Let me know if you aren’t’ up to it and I use my hands again…”
A backward glance assures me he is up to it alright. The stuff legends are made of is once again proudly pointing toward his flat stomach. And toward my ass.
“You need a hand on you, alright...”
The slap is not totally unexpected. I was just about asking for it. No wonder he sent his guys off for tonight. It’s that kind of night. And we are in that kind of mood. Kinky and rough- just like we need it.
“Michael…” A sigh…not a cry for help at all. Unless you count begging him to continue as a call for aid…
“Yes, baby? You’ve been a little bitch all night. And since your husband obviously lets you get away with this kind of shit, you need a real man, don’t you?”
“Are you? Are you that man, Michael…”
I’m no dummy. And I know how to ask for my perverted pleasure without begging.
When it comes, it stings a bit more this time and the sensation floods me as it goes jets directly to my clit.
When he comes to his knees and kisses the heat he just inflicted, I have a difficult time holding still. His hands now caress my red flesh and I shudder. My nerve endings have shredded all insulating material.
He spreads me once again and this time his finger dip forward and part my folds. Oh God- I am not sure I can survive this. I must have made a movement, but I’m really not in charge of my body right now.
“Hold still, Lisa. If you want me to kiss it and make it all better, you better behave.”
“Please, please, Michael…”
I have no idea if I am begging for his fingers or his tongue…but I need some relief. The tension is killing me.
“You want this?”
His finger slides into me easily. I push back against it, and he smacks me lightly again, making me clench my wall around him, earning me a chuckle.
“Gosh, girl, you are ripe for the taking. Too bad I’m not done curing you of your evil ways yet.”
Oh fuck…
Another finger plays at my opening and enters, then another. He moves them around inside of me, stroking my walls, hitting that secret spot inside, and I let out a scream. It might have been his name, but I’m not sure.
“If you cum before I tell you, I’ll make you leave, Lisa. You better realize I’m in charge of your body now. Its mine, no matter what loser you lend it out to. It always only screams for me.”
Damn him for knowing the truth. That’s why he doesn’t interfere when I run from him. He knows my flight is utterly useless. I am cursed to always return- only his touch will do.
When I feel the moist heat of his breath approaching my tortured core, I freeze. I don’t want to do anything to distract him from where I need him to be.
“Ask for it.”
“Lick me…”
“Come on, you can do better than that…” He kisses my butt and I bite my lip.
“Eat my pussy, Michael. Please, baby…”
“Can you handle it girl?”
He licks at my dripping slit and I scream out.
“Fuck yeah…Oh God…” I feel like crying as I try to control my breathing enough to keep from cuming. I know he means what he says. If I climax without his permission,this kind of game might be over.
His fingers now move in and out of me with a twisting motion. I clench my teeth and try to think of anything to keep the explosion delayed.
Suddenly, his fingers pull away and he once again opens me up to him, his mouth on my greedily now, drinking me, fucking me with his tongue, sucking on my clit. My moans are an indicator of my absolute delirium. I feel sweat running down my temples and between my breast. The arms braced against the wall are shaking.
His mouth leaves and the surrounding air hits my exposed clit, making me scream again.
When he blows on me it is more torture. The sob escapes and he knows I am desperate.
“What a good girl you are. I can taste how turned on you are, baby girl.”
His tongue caresses my swollen nubbin with its rough surface and I start to see stars.
“Michael, please, please let me cum for you. I can’t…I can’t hold back…Please…”
“Come on then, baby girl, let yourself go. Let me feel you cum for Daddy."
The signal is given at the same time his lips suck my clitoris into his mouth and two fingers push into me, one finding my g-spot once again. The rush of pure heat centered in my lower belly detonates and surges through me as I start convulsing uncontrollably. I cry out his name over and over, not able to hold back any more. He stays right there with me, knowing when to ease the pressure and when to caress me to prolong the waves.
Finally he gets up behind me, holding me up and against him, knowing I do not have the strength to support my own weight as my soul slowly returns into its human casing. The feeling of his pulsing erection starts to register against my sweaty skin. His sweet kisses shower my feverish cheeks, my neck, my shoulders.
Despite my weakness, I don’t have enough. Barely able to catch my breath, feeling my pulse still thundering through my veins like a herd of wilder-beast, I don’t have enough.
“Fuck me, Mike…Bring it home. I need to feel you inside.”
“Little wanton. Spread ‘em wider Lisa. And hold on…”
I hold my breath and when he enters me in one strong thrust, I start seeing stars and colors. Oh hell, no- I am not going to share him with anyone. This is all mine, and I need him to survive. No other woman is entitled to feel him like this, feel his steel invade her, hear him moan and cry in those sounds that drive me mad with desire. Holding my hips steady, he punishes me with the sweetest of strong strokes, hitting every nerve inside, then making me suffer with the sweet dragging feeling as he is about to leave me, only to surge back into me.
In no time, I am ready to take flight again. He speeds up even more, using his hips to give me those circular upward jabs that take my breath away. One hand finds my breasts and starts to tweak my nipples, while the other comes to rest at my swollen center, finding my detonator, pinching it and rubbing it, until I scream once again, while he continues to fuck me so hard I think my arms are about to give out.
When he slows, I welcome the small break. Holy shit- my legs are on fire I am almost too unstable to stand. Michael turns me and I stumble against the wall, staring at him in a daze.
“Oh hell, no, Lisa. You’re not about to give out on me now. I’m nowhere near done with you.”
His penis is huge and wet from my juices. Michael is sweating, his hair is wet, and his eyes are hurling lightning bolts at me. He is my Zeus, and he is about to prove why no other man will ever do.
“You ok?” For all his crazy macho talk, I know he would never hurt me. He knows my limits and I must sense I have been on a starvation diet. Oh, I am more than okay.
I try to swallow and speak- but my voice has left me. So I nod instead.
His fingers brush a strand of hair that became stuck to my temples behind my ear. Then he pulls me close for a tender kiss, which takes on increasing urgency.
“Can you handle more?”
“Bring it on…I wanna see you get off…”
That cocky smirk again. “Oh, I plan on it.”
He picks me up as if I am nothing but a little doll, and impales me, making me scream against his shoulder. When I bite down, he moans and calls me a crazy little cat. My laughter makes him squint and I know he is ready to shoot his load. But not before he gives me another wild pounding- this time having better leverage as the wall his behind me.
“Fucking hell, Lisa….You’re my death..I’m gonna do it this time, baby. I’m about to go wild… Come on, cum with me one more time. I wanna feel your walls grab me.”
When he lifts me against him this last time, he slams me down while giving me that upward motion that hits my clit at just the right angle. My scream gives him the signal and he goes wild. Suddenly, he freezes and starts jerking wildly against me. His moans are the sweetest admission of love, especially since my name is right there. His penis fills me completely, and my body welcomes his hot essence as I feel it flooding me.
I realize that once again we went without protection and I don’t know why, but I send a prayer to the universe.
It takes both of us a while to calm down. We kiss while his hands glide over my back. I have him clutched to me, my legs locked tightly, unwilling to let go. When he puts me down, I protest. I cannot bear the loss of his heat.
Michael lifts me up and carries me over to the couch. He lets himself fall into it, and he pulls me against him, holding me in his lap.
“I never did say, Happy Birthday…” I kiss his chest, enjoying the sweet perfume of our love making.
“Well, actions speak louder than words at times.”
True…
However, at this moment, I don’t know what to say or how to act. I feel vulnerable. Elated and sad, victorious and defeated. Unable to move for fear of making him disappear into the land of my dreams. I need to hold on to this instant for a little while longer.
We are in our protective cocoon and I cannot allow reality to intrude. Not yet. I don’t have my titanic armor on right now. He stripped it with one glance of his eyes.
“Do you have to go?”
Leave it to him to be the brave one.
“Do you want me to?” I am tempted to lift my head to find in his eyes what he wants me to do. If only I was not so scared. What if I find the wish to have me gone?
“I want him to never lay another hand on you, Lisa. I want you to fly back to LA and tell him it’s over.”
“And that would be it, Mike? That would solve all our problems?”
When I finally dare to look up, I’m almost astonished to find nothing but translucent sincerity.
His hands frame my face. He kisses the tip of my nose. “It would be start. You know this is not the last time. We can’t stay away. So, why don’t we try something totally new and work together to make it last?”
Oh shit. Now what? I am freaking out here.
“Michael?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I’m so scared.”
“I know. Me, too.”
I sniffle and wipe the lonely tear away. “You? You’re never scared.”
He chuckles.
“Really? Well, I was scared shitless to attend tonight. I knew you’d be there. I had no idea what you would throw at me this time. I just knew it wasn’t gonna be boring. And then the evening turned out to be such a frigging disaster.”
“Well, it wasn’t your fault. I know I might have side-tracked you…”
We were both referring to the stupid non-award… As angry as I was- I still feel the red hot fury at sensing he had been set up.
“No, they wanted to fuck with me. But that’s ok. I got all I want right here in my arms. As long as you don’t tell me I don’t really have won you, either…”
Oh God! How can he win me? He has never, ever lost me. Not really. It seems I have always been his. From creation until now.
“Michael…”
“Yeah?”
“Please make love to me again. Don’t let me go, ok. I don’t want you to let me go…”
His kiss tells me that’s the last thing he wants in this world. He carries me to the bedroom and when he comes up over my body, I know it now is time for that sweet, dangerous, slow lovemaking. The kind that kills me and grants me rebirth. The kind that lets me float on a cloud so soft and so protective I know I can never fall again. When we are both close to that ultimate out of body experience, his hands clutch mine above my head, as his hips swivel into me. There is no escape this time- our eyes stay connected and I start to cry as I climax.
October 2002, Los Angeles
Well, that wasn’t as bad as expected. Freedom. Finally!
After Nic blew up at me the first time I asked him for a divorce, and evaded my calls for nearly a month, I was almost surprised when my attorney finally contacted me and informed me he finally agreed to the conditions. All I had to do was keep up the charade for a month. He wanted to save face. As if anyone cared. But fine, let it be known that Nicolas Cage filed for divorce from the ever fucked up Lisa-Marie Presley and not the other way ‘round. I didn’t give a flying fuck as long as my marriage rested on the bottom of the ocean with that cursed ring I sent deep sea diving.
The flipside of the coin was that he informed me the deal would be off if he found out I was in any way, shape, or form in contact with Michael. Well, fuck that shit. I almost told him to stuff his deal, but lately I was not in a suicidal mood anymore.
For the first time in a very, very long while I had hope. And not even Nic, my mother, or anyone else could blow it for me.
Michael contacted me after I returned to LA, asking if I was ready to drop Nic. At that time, I had entered into the deal with the devil, so, in return, I asked him to have faith. Of course, he laughed at me. And not in a good way.
“I should have known you’re nothing but a coward. Well, I hope you liked what you got the other night. Call me up if you need more. It might work out if I save money and get your services for free.”
Funny enough, his sarcasm didn’t hurt as much as he intended. Not that time. I knew he was injured and I understood. I also knew there was an expiration date on my marriage.
Smiling, I catch my relaxed face in the mirror. Yeah, baby! I put down the separation agreement- it is not the most important thing I have to look forward today.
Ten minutes later, I sit on the edge of the bath-tub in a daze. Why the hell am I this surprised? I had my suspicions for weeks. Is this my award for braveness in battle? Well, if so, I certainly deserve it. Now, I just have to figure out the rest of the plan.
How am I going to make him see that I finally am buying into his silly concept of fate? Biting my finger nails, I run different scenarios through my mind, trying to find one that is fool-proof.
I hear the door slam and jump out of my skin. Dammit! The kids are supposed to be with Danny. Maybe they forgot something. Well, they should know better than to slam the door and give me a heart attack. Someone is definitely running up the stairs. Where is the fire, kiddo?
When I open the bedroom door to chew out whoever can’t remember the rule of no running in the house, I almost get mowed down by the last person I expected.
“What the hell?”
“Shit- sorry- are you ok?”
Michael? At my house? Suddenly, after almost 6 weeks (not like I'm counting days or anything)? Am I losing my mind? I clutch the little treasure in my hand and hide it behind my back as he grabs me shoulders.
“Yeah, did you just slam my door? And how did you get in?”
Silly question. We both know he has a key… Wonder why I never made him give it back?
“Key. Anyway. Yeah. Sorry ‘bout the noise. I was practicing what to say all the way over here. And I don’t wanna wait.”
“Ok….well. come right on in, then.”
“What? Ok… Lisa- shut up, ok? You gonna listen to what I have to say and that’s it.”
Ok, boss-man!
“I really thought you’re gonna come to your senses, but no, you gotta be stubborn. Look, I know I fucked up when I pressured you about the baby. And possibly, I was a bit rash to go ahead with Blanket- not that I regret it, but maybe I could have waited a bit till you were ready. But , you running off to marry this fool for sure didn’t help. I don’t know what goes on in your head, but you know you can’t be without me, so that was a stupid stunt.”
Ok, lay it all out there, will y’a?
I can’t live without him?
Well, he’s damn right!
My verbal response comes down to an, “Okay….”
“I don’t know if you wanted me to stop you, but I wasn’t about to beg you. I knew you’d wake up and realize you placed us both in hell. But, dammit, girl, do you have to be so darn stubborn? I love you, and I don’t see why in the world we have to live apart. I’m tired of imagining you with him. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t care. So, this is your choice: leave him, or …”
“Or…?”
This was the cutest I have seen Michael in a very long time. He’s really flustered and reminds me of a kid arguing why he should have apple pie before his dinner.
“Or…. Fuck it, Lisa. Nothing, or. I want you to wake up and leave the loser. He can’t give you anything you need. No man can. I'm the only one who knows you- and can handle you.”
He is right of course, but this was just too much fun to end it.
“If you say so.”
His eyes narrow and he obviously has not expected that answer.
“Well?”
“Well, what? You seem to have it all figured out.”
“And?”
“Michael, you know, you are losing your touch. You normally are such an innovator.”
“What the heck are you talking about?”
“Your ideas are always ahead of the game. But this time…”
I shake my head in a playful gesture of frustration.
“Lisa…?”
I grab his hand and walk him down the stairs.
“Lisa, I’m not leaving…so..”
“Can you shut up for a moment? I gotta show you a couple of things.”
I pick up the legal papers and hold them out to him.
"See, Mister Genius. I beat you to the punch this time."
I watch his face as he reads every single line. As much as he's been sued, he is almost a legal expert now. It’s so cool to see delight, surprise, and relief register all at the same time. Guess he doesn’t mind that I already acted on the brilliant idea of leaving Nic behind.
“When…why didn’t you tell me?”
“I had to agree to let him save face…He didn’t want it to look like I left him for you.”
“Pathetic poser. You were never his to start with. Doesn’t he know he was just a pawn to get to me?”
I have to chuckle. Glad to see his self-esteem was not too hurt by this.
“I think he had a clue when I didn’t stop talking about you. Or defending you, or…”
“Defending me? I don’t need you to defend me to the likes of him. Like I care what he thinks?”
Ok, that’s it- I can’t stand it any longer. Walking up a step closer. I pull his head down to me.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Michael pulls me so close, he takes me breath away. And I don’t mind at all… Not one tiny bit.
When I’m breathless and can’t see straight he lets me go.
“You said you had a couple of things to show me…”
Oh yeah… Wow. This is going down so much differently than expected. But hey- he is here. He’d taken that leap of faith.
He definitely earned his little reward. Well, little right now. It would no doubt grow.
I clutch the stick in my hand tighter before I hold it out to him.
His eyes recognize it immediately. We have read so many of those damn things together. Only this time there is an added line.
“Oh shit…” His eyes fly up to mine and I can see the same expression I found in my face about a week ago. That fateful morning I lost my breakfast before having eaten one. And when the “virus” didn’t pass and it occurred to me that I was late, I might have uttered similar words.
“Before you ask- it’s yours. I didn’t have sex with him after New York, I swear. When you said you wanted to make sure I knew I was yours, you weren’t kidding.”
Michael reaches out and touches my face.
“No, Lisa- I mean…I assumed you showing me the divorce papers and then the test meant it was mine. I really didn’t think…. But oh, my Gosh. I can’t believe it. That night- I prayed it would happen. It was like my last chance- or it felt like it, anyway.”
Funny, how we both had wished for the same thing. And funny how sometimes things work themselves out. Despite my best efforts to fuck them up.
When he pulls me into a kiss, I stop questioning fate. I stop questioning him. And I finally stop questioning myself. For once, I win. And I’m never going let him go.
THE END
The Difference is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
©2011 Erika B Michaels. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner, for entertainment purposes only, and are in no way representative of actual events. This work may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted, or stored without expressed written permission by Erika B Michaels. All photos and images, mentioned songs or song titles are copyright their creators.
