Todd

TODD

The sudden smell of her own arousal makes is enough to make her sick. Silently she begs the darkest, deepest part of her to save her. She desparately wants to get up and leave yet she feels her body start to respond to his smoke-scented demands. Her fingers involuntarily entwine in his damp curls as her mind screams in revulsion. Betrayed by her own flesh, she hands herself over to his aggression, an instrument for this consuming sex.

His hands are not gentle, they don’t pretend to love her. They seek her private places out with varying degrees of brutality. They work apart her resisting thighs, tear at her skin. They exposes her nipples and he sucks them to his wet mouth like a leech. She turns her head to avoid his kisses. She recoils as his lips, wet and awful, slid over her quivering stomach and her naked shoulders. He rocks against her, oblivious to her beautiful body beneath him. He is so heavy, like dead weight. He moves into his own blind rhythm.

“Please not this time” Somewhere the voices she knows order her to leave, to summon the courage to remember herself again and escape. “This is not what you are, this is not what you have to do. Its not too late.” His moans fill her ears, impossibly loud, mingling with the squeal of bedsprings, his heavy panting and obscene mumblings. She longs to cover her ears, block out this perverted orchestra.

As part of her struggles for freedom, she realizes the futility of her fight. She’s forgotten how strong he was. She thinks she is pleading with him but he is so heavy, so loud now. She’s forgotten how much she resents his body, so hard and impersonal, not soft and yielding like her lover’s. Her stomach rolls and her bladder aches. She fights back the bile rising in her throat and tries to draw her arms back over her chest, tries to cover her sex. He pushes them back above her head, laughing and snorting little, excited more by her sudden resistance.

“This is not what you do…this is not a friend…” She is losing herself. "What is taking him so long?" She is already lost somewhere between the touch of a loved one she can never hold and this sweaty obscenity she uses to erase his face. “Let me go, let me go!” He moves into her suddenly, intensified and desperate. A sharp, ripping pain tears through her, she can almost feel something break loose. “Don’t, don’t scream so loud…” She offers him her mouth at last to stifle his horrible howling.

His body bucks a final time, relaxes and rolls away. There are no murmured sweet things, no contented sighs, no loving tender hands roving over her warm body, appreciating and praising her. There is nothing more then this space, choking silence and stale cigarette smoke. He pats her head like a faithful pet. In a few moments, he is sleeping. She covers him with a blanket and pulls on her clothes in the dark.

She lets herself out. The cold autumn air hits her like a knife in the chest but she hardly notices. She aches and welcomes the physical pain. A blissful numbness has at last swept in. She barely registers the tears sliding down her face, knowing at least now she can hate herself with good reason. The walk home is a long one and thankfully now, she has got something else to think about.