Lost in your Lust

LOST in your LUST.

Love is an extraordinary thing.
It can lighten your life, give you something to live for, put a smile on your face when you think of that one person.
It can change you, make you do stupid things, for the unlucky few, turn you crazy.

*

Lust is an extraordinary thing.
It can lighten your life, give you something to live for, put a smile on your face when you think of that one person.
It can change you, make you do stupid things, for the unlucky few, turn you crazy.


***
Sam
Her smile flashed across the screen as she laughed; shiny brown hair bounced off her shoulders and she sighed, only to catch sight of the camera to set her off again.
She was twenty-three, beautiful and my soon to be wife.
I laughed along at the video, her giggle melting my heart, inspiring me, day by day. I longed to hold her, tell her how happy she made me.
I sighed, flicked off the telly and reached for my phone.
Scrolling through my contacts, I reached ‘Lily’ and pressed dial.
‘Hi Sam’ she answered, and as she spoke, I could feel the smile spreading on her face.
‘ I love you’ I whispered
‘…I love you too’
I hung up.

We were a couple, we were going to have arguments, I just had to ensure she knew I loved her and it would be okay.
This time it was over something stupid. She hadn’t called me when she got home after a late night out. I love her, I was worried- naturally. She told me not to be like her mom and we got angry.
I hate when we argue, I do everything I can to put it right, without being too clingy. Shame she doesn’t seem to care as much.
I jumped as my phone vibrated in my hand and smiled when I saw the caller. Not wasting any time, I answered, relieved.
‘Lily’
‘Sam, I’m sorry, can I come round? I’ll make it up to you?’
I smiled, ‘Sure baby, see you in ten?’
I hung up and hastily looked round my flat for anything out of place, hurried to the bathroom, had a quick shave, added a subtle amount of aftershave, and changed my clothes.

Ten minutes later I answered the door to the love of my life and we shared a passionate kiss, one I’d gone without for a whole weekend.
*
I pulled her close to me, breathing her in. The midnight sky was a comfort blanket to us as we just stood together on my balcony, pointing out different stars and gazing at the moon. The wind blew around us and I felt her shiver, goose bumps all over her naked body. I caressed her breasts, stroked her belly, kissed the back of her neck; did anything I could to take her in, want her, love her. My erection stood tall and my balls ached with the anticipation of what was to come next. I knew she could feel it, but I had to take things slowly, she hated rushing into things.
She turned to face me, and I knew I couldn’t resist her any longer.
I smiled, hoping she knew she was teasing me, but she was serious. Her eyes glared into mine and she kissed me furiously.
My cock stirred; the familiar tingling in my balls, I wasn’t reluctant and kissed her back, my hands wandering more ferociously now over her body.
I wasn’t a selfish lover, as long as she got what she wanted, it made me happy. Well- to an extent.
I pulled away from her intense kiss ‘I love you’
‘I love you too’
She shivered, ‘Maybe we should go inside’ I suggested and as I did so, lifted her and she giggled, wrapping her bare legs around my waist.


Lily
I like space.
What woman doesn’t like space?
I don’t see why he couldn’t understand that.
We’d had a good night out with all the girls and the boys, I was drunk, got a taxi home and literally collapsed on the sofa as soon as I walked in the door.
I hadn’t called my fiancé to tell him I was safe. If he was so bothered about me being safe, he’d have invited me back to his wouldn’t he? Instead of inviting his idiotic mates.
That was Friday night, we’d argued Saturday morning, and haven’t spoken since. Today was Monday, and especially after a long day at work, I missed him like hell.
I sighed, flicked on the telly and tried to concentrate on Eastenders, but couldn’t keep my mind off him.
I bet he wasn’t even thinking about me now was he? Here I am going crazy about him and he doesn’t even care.
I flinched as my phone vibrated in my hand
‘Hi Sam.’ I smiled
It was a faint whisper, but I heard it- ‘ I love you’
I took in his words and after a pause, I said it back.
He hung up.
I sighed, I knew this treatment. He’d make sure I knew he loved me, and then make me feel guilty so I’d say sorry. Well I’m not going to lie, it worked…every time.
I waited a few minutes then dialled his number.
He sounded relieved and breathed my name.
‘Sam, I’m sorry, can I come round? I’ll make it up to you?’
To me, this meant a quiet night in together, just loving each other. To him, it meant sex.
Either way, I was happy I was spending time with him.
*
A typical love scene; standing on his balcony looking up to the stars and the moon. His hands were all over me, my nipples hard under the cool wind and his erotic touch. I wanted him. But it was better this way, taking things slow, otherwise he’d lose his respect for me- think we could just have sex whenever he fancied. I kept sex to love. We didn’t have hot, steamy, rough sex, but slow, loving, emotional sex. And for this, our relationship is stronger.
I turned to him and after a kiss, shivered deliberately, hoping he’d take the hint.
He suggested we went inside, and lifted me around his waist. His erection was teased against me and I did everything I could to maintain that.
I get pleasure out of knowing he wants me, but I like to keep him waiting for it.
Some may say its evil; I say it’s preserving respect


Elle
I love weddings.
There is nothing more beautiful in the whole world, than love. Especially when that love is all going to plan- the bride looks outstanding, the groom looks handsome. But there’s that moment, the proof that it’s true love- when they’re eyes meet as she’s walking down the aisle- it’s a moment of magic. Something that should always be caught on camera, something treasured for ever. But, picture or not, it will always remain a piece of the bride and grooms heart.
That’s for all the cliché love stories anyway.
I’ve been to 4 weddings, and only one of them had that moment of magic.
That was my moms and dads.
I was 6 years old, a brief memory, but one that shall never fade. I was all dressed up in a pretty lilac dress and my auntie had done my hair, blonde curls that fell just short of my shoulder. I felt beautiful. My sister and I looked the same (she was five) and people were forever cooing at us, taking pictures over and over.
I was given my first camera that day, a simple disposable one, which no-ones heard of in this day and age, but it was enough.
I took 27 pictures that day. 25 of them were pointless- of the floor, or close-ups of random relative’s faces, but I got that picture, the perfect picture. At the time, it was just a click, but now it holds the memory.
It’s pinned on my bedroom wall.
My father, looking down the aisle to my mother, the proudest man in the world. My mom is slightly cut out of the picture; I just caught the edge of her gorgeous gown.
I was focussed on my dad. I got the moment of magic where I saw love written all over my dads face. A moment I’ll never see again for as long as I live. The other significant picture is pinned behind it, for no-one else to see. Only I know the truth about that night, but I never want to see it, ever again.

The other three weddings were my moms and her other boyfriends.
I was eight, eleven and fifteen.
Mom said she’d never be able to forgive herself for what happened to Dad, but she made it look easy enough.
She got over it quicker than any of us.
Or maybe it was just an act. If she tried hard enough, it would eventually happen. But she doesn’t show any remorse, no sign of missing him.
I can only think of one thing worse than losing the one you love, and that’s losing them on your wedding night.
Our family was broken for ages. It still is, but we try to smooth over the holes by being together and putting on fake smiles. Everyone thinks it was an accident. No-one was to blame.
I hate my mom for that night. I just wish I could tell someone else, I wish someone else could know the truth…


Sam
When I was twelve, my sister got given a camera. She never used it and one day, I went in her room and borrowed it. It amazed me, and I wanted to take photos with it.
I went into the garden and took pictures of leaves; twigs; the sun. Anything I found remotely attractive and ‘snap’ it was on the camera.
I’d taken forty-four pictures in all and I was quite proud of them- so proud I didn’t delete them.
For my sisters sixteenth birthday, she had a big party. Naturally she wanted to take pictures of her and her friends enjoying themselves.
She found the pictures and was furious. I said sorry and explained I was curious. My mom heard the noise, and came in to break it up. Jenna showed her the pictures, starting to explain how I’d ‘stolen her camera and nearly broke it’ but mom didn’t listen. She was stunned.
‘Sam, these pictures are beautiful…you’ve got some really good pictures here.’
She immediately showed my father and they both flicked through each picture commenting on the great lighting, angles and ‘framing’-whatever that was. I’d just done it naturally, didn’t even think there was such a thing as ‘good photography’.
Needless to say, for my fourteenth birthday, I got given an extremely posh camera and since then, I have loved photography. It became a part of me. And that’s why now im a professional photographer, with my own business.
I don’t know where I’d be without my camera. I wasn’t that smart in school, I could never be bothered and truanted a lot. C was my best grade and that was in English.
But I managed to set up my own business and now im doing quite well. My business partner, Janie is a lovely, bubbly person and a joy to work with; I think it’s safe to say im happy with my job.
Today was Saturday, and rain poured down the windscreen furiously, each rain drop racing for the finish line, not just a competition to them, but they’re life. They barged into one another, destroying each other, just to win this race before they dried up and they’re short, pointless, but valuable lives were over.
I felt for the marrying couple; horrible weather for a wedding day.
Thunder rumbled above my head and I sighed. That would be going through the whole service now, and if it didn’t ruin their wedding day, it certainly ruined my day.
I sat in our van outside the church, waiting for Janie. She was only ten minutes late. She’d be here, eventually. Normally, we met at the office, and came together in the van, but today she was at her boyfriends. Late night I gathered, she must have overslept; a forgivable but commonly used excuse, and today I decided I had to be more firm with her. I couldn’t let her have her way like this all the time. Well- she’s not always late, only when she sleeps at that boyfriend of hers. She always gets away with it because I lighten up at her smile and joke about how much of a good night she’d had.
Ten minutes slowly turned into fifteen, so I gave up waiting and gave her a call.
She answered immediately. ‘Sam, Sam, I’m so sorry’ her voice was broken, coughing and sniffing; she was in a clear state of tears.
My heart sunk. ‘Janie, what is it, tell me?’
‘It’s nothing Sam, im on my way anyway, set up the stuff; I’ll fill you in later. Should be about ten minutes, sorry’
I hung up, confused, thoughts dashed through my mind.
He couldn’t be hurt; else she wouldn’t be coming to work.
Maybe it was a relative?
Maybe they’d just had a silly argument. For her sake, I prayed to God it wasn’t something worse.
I began to lug the equipment out of the van and take it inside the church.
In the short distance from the van to the door, I was soaked.
Not amused in the slightest, I took a trip to the gents to dry off.
I looked at my distant reflection in the mirror.
My curly brown hair was now tangled up flat against my head, a dripping mess that I was ashamed to call my own.
I’m not modest, I know im quite good-looking. My eyes have a particular sparkle to them, and many girls have told me they have to be careful not to get lost in the sheer dark brown magic of them.
My jaw sits just right, square and manly, without being too fierce and overpowering. I’m proud of my teeth. They are perfectly white, perfectly shaped and perfectly positioned. My lips compliment them nicely, luscious and full, something many girls look for in a guy. I’ve been told they are heaven to kiss, but hey, that might just be my great kissing techniques.
No, im not modest, but im not arrogant either. I consider myself lucky to be good-looking, and I don’t use it to seduce people, or think I’m better than anyone. I look for personalities in people, I’m not shallow, and will give an ‘ugly’ girl just as much chance as a ‘pretty’ girl. Not that I need to now anyway, I’ve got my fiancé and we’re perfectly happy together. I would never cheat, and neither would she. She makes me smile, I make her smile. No-one can come between that, and that’s why we are going to get married and live happily ever after.
Call me stupid, call me naive.
I just say im in love.
In love with the perfect girl.
*
‘CONDOMS. I found condoms’ Janie wailed in my ear as I hugged her, patting her back and hoping to God she was okay.
I struggled with what to say, stunned.
‘In his sock drawer- HIDDEN, half a box were missing.’
I stuttered, bewildered. ‘Janie, I…err…would you like to be a little clearer please?’
She sighed as if I was stupid, tears still streaming down her face. ‘I’ve got an implant, we haven’t used condoms for over a year. We used every last one and that was it. We haven’t bought any or used any in the last year we’ve been together.’ She groaned ‘…well obviously he has.’
My face crumpled, and I almost felt as bad as she did. I pulled her close to me, holding her tight as she bawled.
‘Janie, its alright, there’s no need to worry, maybe you’ve been mistaken. Maybe they’ve just been there for a while…maybe he just…’ I broke off, stuck on what to say ‘Look, he obviously isn’t worth it if he’s off shagging other women, you’re an amazing girl and any guy would be lucky to have you. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. And you never know, maybe you really have been mistaken? Maybe they’re his brothers or something, I don’t know…’
She pulled away from my embrace and looked me in the eyes.
‘He admitted it,’ Her eyes filled with tears as she said it, over thinking the memory, the hurt. ‘I shouted at him, telling him to tell the truth and he just admitted it- said my talent in bed had been sucking for months and he needed someone that was able to please him. He said he can’t wait for me to get out of his life for good. I’ll be going to collect everything of mine from his flat later.’
My heart sunk as she said it. How dare anyone have the cheek to hurt my colleague, worse, my friend like that. Anger began bubbling up inside me as I thought of all the good times they’d had together, the stories I’d heard from Janie and the way I’d seen them together. No way- he couldn’t treat Janie like that. They were too much in love. I’d seen the way he looked at her. Surely if you loved someone that much you couldn’t cheat, wouldn’t even think about cheating on them?
I held Janie close, wishing there was something I could do.
She sobbed into my shoulder, and I could soon feel the dampness of her tears seeping through my suit.
‘Tell you what, why don’t you come round to mine tonight, eh? We’ll have a good movie night, order in a Chinese?’
She looked up at me and smiled, but her eyes were doubting.
‘I’ll even throw in Love Actually if you want?’ My eyes pleaded, I wanted to do anything I could to make her feel better. ‘Go on, I’ll make the sacrifice for a really good friend?’
She laughed, but tears continued pouring down her cheeks. ‘Go on then Sam,’ she smiled ‘and thank you…but I think we can leave Love Actually out of it for once, think I can do without all the lovey-dovey nonsense tonight.’
I grimaced- of course she wouldn’t want to watch Love Actually after today!
I turned towards the church, we were late and had photos to do. ‘Are you going to be alright for work today? I’ll manage on my own if you want?’
‘No, no, I’ll be fine.’
She smiled, wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, but I looked at her doubtingly. ‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’


Elle
When I was fifteen my mom had her ‘last’ wedding.
She promised there would be no more, said she would stay with this guy through whatever. She’d finished with the other guys, but she said she loved this one with all her heart. Steven was ‘the one.’
For once, I believed my mom. I thought, maybe for once, she would keep a promise and we would stay an almost complete family for the rest of my life.
Again, I was wrong.
This time though, it was through no fault of her own.
Well maybe it was, maybe if she’d been prettier, funnier, kinder, sexier, maybe then he wouldn’t have cheated. Yeah, I sound harsh blaming my mom, but I really can’t blame Steven at all, I mean, look at her, she’s a mess. She treats everyone like shit, she’s a major drama queen and she makes no effort with her appearance whatsoever. Okay, so everyone says it what’s on the inside that counts, but my mom, she’s just not got a lot, if anything at all, going for her.
Widowed, divorced twice, two children, unemployed, I know if it weren’t for family, I would have nothing to do with her right now.
Mom tried and tried to keep Steven with her once she’d found out, but he was the one that left her.
Seeing her cry for the next few weeks, any normal daughter would have been broken. Any normal daughter would have comforted her and told her it wasn’t her fault.
That’s what Jenna did. She played the ‘good’ daughter.
I played the evil one.
But I know I’m not evil, I’m just the only one that knows. If Jenna knew the truth, she’d be the same, wouldn’t she?
Three years on, my mom’s got herself a new bloke. I think its safe to say I hate him.
They’ve been together five months and are marrying next week.
My mom is now forty-five and this is her 5th husband. Some may say it’s fifth time lucky, some may say she’s had a lot to deal with, and is only trying to be happy, some may say after having her first one and true love, she is trying to replace him, but never will.
I say she’s greedy.
I say she’s selfish.
I say she’s stupid.
My Mum and Dad got together when she was 20, had me when she was 27 and Jenna when she was 28. They married six years after having me, when she was 33. They’d been together 13 years. 13 years of happiness and love, and no-one could ever replace that. I knew that, Jenna knew that, Dad, wherever he was out there, knew that. My mum, however, didn’t, and she was never going to give up that search for the perfect man again. Even if it meant pushing away her two daughters, pushing away her whole family. She would do anything just to find anyone on par with Dad- even if it ruined her life.
“Elle- hurry up and choose one for gods sake!”
I groaned.
“Mom, I don’t bloody know, why don’t you just wear one from the last four?!”
She pulled a face, one that told me to shut the fuck up before she slapped me.
“It’s just not the done thing Elle- how many women do you know that wear the same dress from their first wedding?!”
“None Mum, because you’re the only person I know that’s married 4 times!”
She glared at me, and turned a bright shade of scarlet, before turning back to the sales assistant.
“I’ll have the ivory lace one.” she placed her order and made to storm out of the shop.
I followed, anticipating an argument, but as she turned she had tears in her eyes. “Sometimes, it would mean a lot if even my own daughter might support me”
Sighing, I turned away. I hated when she did that- made me feel guilty.
It's not right; she's the guilty one.

*
It was always the same, walking down the corridor, eagle eyes ready to pounce. A laugh crept up my back, snickers steal my smile. ‘Slag…slag…slag…slag’ echoes round the halls, along with ‘looser, fake, slut’. My blood runs cold, my head panics. I do anything I can to look like I don’t care; to act natural. Then I hear names, the other side of they’re conversation, and they’re not talking about me at all.
Well, most of the time.
I couldn’t help my paranoia.
Six years of bullying can result to that. I walked confident, I wore a smile, I laughed and I joked with my mates. Yes, I did have friends; ones I knew wouldn’t judge me. I relied on them. They’re the only thing that kept me going. If there was ever a time I felt down, I knew I could turn to them. I knew they would stick up for me if anything was said.
I’m not a slag.
Maybe I’m a loser, yes I like to read and do well in lessons, but there are other geeks too, other losers that don’t fit in. They don’t get shit like me though.
Maybe it’s because I am a fake. I tried to fit in once; I tried to go to parties, I tried to rebel in class. I cut my hair and died it a dark scarlet, hiding my long blonde curls that had caused me shit for so long. Now they hate me- the ‘populars’ do. Sometimes, I just wish I could rewind my life. Just give myself another chance to get it right, but next time I’d stay the nerd, the geek, the loser. Then I wouldn’t be the fake, the slag. I would just be me, and maybe I’d actually have a chance at life then. But anything I do now, even the most innocent thing, makes me a slag, a nerd, gives people a right to laugh at me.
I believe everything happens for a reason.
That was 4 years ago. I overcame it, I lived through the torture, and now I’m a totally different person. I walk with a smile, but without trying to look confident. I laugh, but without trying to make jokes. I am inwardly, quite simply, happy. That’s the only word for it, but I feel good, and I think the years of grief at secondary school are to be responsible for that. I’ve realised there is no point trying to be someone else. No point being happy, just to prove something to other people. I’ve admitted I like to write, and that is what I do. Four years ago I would have laughed the idea off and even scorned it. I would have said I wanted to be a hairdresser, or a waitress. Something that wouldn’t pay that well, something I wouldn’t be good at and something, most importantly, that wouldn’t make me happy.

Sam
Janie laughed as I opened the door to her, revealing my Santa apron I’d received from my mother four Christmases ago. I swear she won it on a raffle, but I’ve never had the cheek to ask.
‘Food should be here in ten…you do like chicken fried rice, right?’
Her perfect glossy lips smiled and I followed the creases right up to her eyes, decorated with a huge amount of eye shadow.
‘This really means a lot Sam.’ She was smiling too much, almost fluttering her eyelashes.
I swallowed and nodded, suddenly wondering if this was such a good idea.
*
A bottle of wine and Chinese later, we were snuggled up on the sofa, laughing to Shrek.
‘Sam, Sam, Sam…you really…you really do mean a lot to me you know, just the fact that your willing to give up your evening for me shows you care. I know you must really, really love me’ She smiled a drowsy smile and leaned closer into my shoulder.
I laughed at her slurred words; her sudden honesty to me, but the room felt different now.
‘Do you know what else I love Sam?’ She giggled to herself and an orchestra of guilt began playing in my mind.
‘I love you…lots and lots and lots and more lots.’
I laughed at her, ‘I love you too Janie.’
It was then that I realised she’d been stroking my nipple quite lovingly through my shirt.
Her eyes lit up as she looked up at me, her legs spread across my sofa, she was now fully laid down with her head in my lap, looking up to me, giggling like a little girl.
‘You do?’
Her hand had now wandered from my nipples to hers, caressing her breasts gently through her lacy jblack top.
I swallowed, trying to clear the lump of guilt that was rising in my throat. I averted my eyes from her breasts as the stroking got more intense, and she took my hand, wanting me to take over. I pulled my hand away slowly and stood up, looking down at her on the sofa.
‘Janie, don’t do this, this isn’t what you want… maybe I should take you home now.’
Her expression changed, shocked at my answer.
‘But…’ Her eyes welled up, her lip quivered. ‘But I don’t want to go home. It’s lonely Sam, you don’t understand. Please don’t take me home.’ Her arms were now folded, along with her legs, and she looked something of a school girl. I found myself slightly aroused by this thought, but I slapped myself inwardly, I couldn’t even think like that.
I would never cheat.
I’ve never even looked at another woman like that before. I’m happy, I don’t want anyone else. Cheating gets people nowhere, it ruins lives and families. I learnt that from my uncle.
I sighed as her blue eyes looked up at me, she didn’t speak any words, but I knew I couldn’t just toss her out on the street.
‘Okay, you can stay the night, I suppose I shouldn’t drive either, the amount of wine I’ve had’
I went to sit back on the sofa, a little further away this time, and my eyes shifted around the room. Her legs stayed crossed, but a little more isolated now, as if she was trying to bury the past few minutes. Her head was slightly angled towards the opposite wall, her eyes hiding from mine.
I struggled for something to say, and my cock tingled with the anticipation and tension of the room.
‘I’ll go get us some tea,’ I managed, escaping the air of apprehension.

TO BE CONTINUED