Page 7 of Justyce
Bringing the beer to his lips he skulls the liquor down, his eyes never leaving mine. I sigh. I need to be drunk for this.
I mosey over to the cupboard and pull out a bottle of red along with a glass. With my back to James, I pour a healthy amount into the glass knowing that wine goggles are going to be the only way I can fake it tonight.
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, taking in the peppery fruit redolence that floats up into my nostrils. I bring the glass to my lips and take a healthy sip. The wine sloshes around in my mouth, bringing my taste buds to life. I only wish it could resuscitate me in the process.
With my back still facing James, I finish three quarters of the glass before I feel his arms snake around my waist and his hard body push against my back. I flinch at his touch and try not to recoil further away from him as his fingers circle my belly button.My fucking belly button.
No fire travels under his touch. Even when he brings his hands lower, I feel nothing. I’m empty and devoid of any passion toward this man. How fucking sad is that. I tip the wine glass back and finish the contents before refilling and removing his clammy hands from my flesh with my free hand. I need to get away from him.
He groans when I slip out from behind him and make my way toward the bedroom.
“I need a shower. I’ll be out soon.”
“I’ll come with.”
“No, James. I need to wash the day away. We can resume whatever this is when I’m finished.” My tone comes out harsh and robotic, not that I care.
Slamming the door behind me, I pull my midnight blue hair from the bun on top of my head, shuck off the dressing gown, unhook my bra and kick out of my panties. Looking down I cringe when I see the wet patch on the material from my early play session. It infuriates me knowing it’s because ofhim.I refuse to say his name and give him anymore power over me. I know I’m only lying to myself; still, I allow the deception to sink deep inside of me. It’s palatable this way for me.
I step into the shower bath combo and turn the hot faucet on, not bothering with the cold one. The water pressure and temperature are shit in this apartment building but it’s all I can afford.
Tepid water washes over me, taking the day away with it. I stand under the spray for god knows how long waiting for it to get hotter. While waiting, I sip from the glass of wine sitting on the sink next to the shower every so often.
My tummy is in knots, and for some reason I feel like something bad is going to happen. I squash the thought and force myself into believing it’s the wine talking.
The door squeaks, drawing me from my worries. When the curtain is pulled back, James is standing there naked, dick in hand.
His six pack ripples with each stroke of his cock, doing nothing for me. Why couldn’t I fall for a good guy like James? I know exactly why, however I don’t allow my mind to wander down that broken and cracked yellow brick road.
“I’ve missed you,” James grates in between strokes. “Move over baby, I have something for you.”
Feeling a little fuzzy, I move to the side, knowing the wine is working its magic, which means I should be able to stomach what James is about to do to me.
I gaze at his beautiful body and urge myself to feel any sort of excitement toward this man. Not one ounce slithers to the surface.
James steps in and wraps his hand in my long dark hair before his mouth crashes to mine. I wait for the fireworks or the volcano eruptions and the stifling air between us cloaked in lust, but as usual nothing happens for me.
I find myself kissing him back, rolling with the punches and knowing he won’t make me cum again tonight.
Groaning, James breaks away from the kiss and all I can think is thank the heavens. He turns me around and lifts my leg to rest on the bath ledge before he slams inside of me.
I keen out in pain because I’m dryer than a nun’s cunt. Somehow James thinks I’m enjoying it and ruts into me faster. His fingers clumsily fumble with my clit. It doesn’t feel good. If anything its fucking annoying.
Every piece of me wants to slap his hand away and tell him to let me do it. Instead, I allow him to think he’s doing a good job because I know he’s not far off blowing his load. That’s the other thing about James, he’s a selfish lover. Or it could be that I’ve faked it for three years so he gets the fuck off of me.
How sad is that. I’ve been with a man for three years and he’s never bestowed one orgasm upon me. Is this a case of it’s not you, it’s me? Or am I really that fucked up that I can’t cum unless I picture those stormy graphite orbs washing me out to the damn shore. Fuck. Him.
James’s grunts and moans are escalating so I begin my countdown… three, two, one. What a sad fucking existence I live.
“Ahhhh shit, Kenzi! You feel so good. That’s it baby, cum for me.” James pulls out and thick jettisons of cum sloshes all over my back while he still rubs my clit.
Rolling my eyes, I ready myself to fake my orgasm, again. I’ve played this man for three years and he either knows he hasn’t made me orgasm and doesn’t care, or he has no idea and I need a fucking Emmy for my performance.
I open my mouth and cry out, “Oh Jus… James!”Shit.I go the extra mile and call out his name over and over again hoping he was too stranded in utopia to notice my mishap.
His chin rests on my head and his heart is beating against my back like a jackhammer and I feel smothered. Pulling away from him, I turn around to wash the semen off my back and then climb out. I can’t do this anymore, I have to end this. Not only is this unfair to James but it’s slowly dragging me down. It’s stifling. I’m walking around like half a shell: living, but not alive.
I thought when I landed my dream job at Sin For Me magazine things would change, that I would forget about all the troubling things that plagued my mind and finally accept James.
