when we began, i discovered that i could leave my body and look down upon myself . i was naked . the window was open and reflected lights from the moon, the city, the cars would stream across my body . the feeling was the same if it were day or night . my limbs stretching toward each corner of the bed . the dry air wicking away the sweat that began to collect on my belly, on my neck, on my tits . her face was between my thighs . from the corner of the room, i could see that my body would open her eyes and see me looking down at her . at me . to detach . to disassociate . to move closer to oblivion . i am very good at get close to oblivion . from that vantage, i could see the shudder of orgasm quake from within . i began to curl my knees up, thrusting my hips upward . she took the opportunity to shove a finger up my ass . she was waiting for that . her tongue still stroking my clit . i exploded . soon after, i reciprocated .
early in our relationship, these sexual roller coasters could last for many hours . even as i craved that release, my desire shifted only to bare witness to her pleasure . her moans . her requests . her denials . her tempest .
the banality of life got in the way . and we fucked less and less. down to once a week . then every other week . then six weeks . and on . i took more to the bottle . i smoked cigarettes than i needed to . i masturbated at a greater frequency . all to numb my body . to make me forget that i am empty inside . i thought a relationship with another person would bring some balance . for a while, it did . until it didn’t .
it was 90 degrees already, even as it was 7 in the morning . she walked into the kitchen wearing nothing, a little damp from an early shower . this was not uncommon as she often did at this time of year . the water on her skin provided some relief from the heat and dried quickly enough . but she was also being a tease . she knew i admired her round hips, her full chest, her dark pubic hair . “you know, i had a dream last night” she said to me, with her face peering into the refrigerator, getting cream for her coffee .
“oh yeah, was i in it?”
“no, you weren’t . but it was pretty sexy though . i was alone here at home . i felt a presence enter the living room . not a person . not you . as it moved toward me, i felt no fear as it enveloped me . it’s energy surrounded me and began to penetrate all of me . not like violence, but like fucking .”
she paused and saw me shudder at this .
“oh it wasn’t bad at all . i woke up in a cold sweat and was very wet . i tried waking you, but you were totally passed out .”
i reminded myself to ease off the bourbon .
she continued “a shame we both have to go to work .”
“quite a shame” as i get up to kiss her . she’s already on the way back to the bedroom, slurping the coffee the whole way with elbows at acute angles . deliberately unattractive despite her lack of clothes .
that night, she drifts off on the couch, watching tv . with one hand, i slip my fingers under her jeans . under her panties . with my other, i do the same to mine . i’m already wet, inspired by her dream . with a muffled sigh of disapproval, she shifts her body away from mine, turning inward with knees thrust to her chest forcing me to pull my hand out .
it has been months since she touched me . since she wanted me to touch her .
i so long to embrace her . to kiss her . to caress her skin . to suck her nipples . to taste the salt on her neck . to taste the moist between her legs . to slide my fingers inside her . her mouth . her pussy . her ass . to let her dissolve into pleasure . to watch her . my pleasure comes from her pleasure . yet she has refused to enjoy herself . she says that it’s work . she says that it’s the weather . she says that she wants to watch tv instead . she says she ate too much . she says that i drank too much . there’s anyways an excuse . it makes me feel small . i try to understand . i try to commiserate . but when she’s near me, my whole body aches . so when she dreams of something else fucking her, my stomach twists with jealousy, followed by the lust that maybe there’s a notion of her pleasure that we can share .
i make my way into the bedroom, my hand already up my skirt, rubbing my clit . the panties unceremoniously left in the hallway . i envision her visitor . i envision myself watching them . i envision her breasts cradled by a formless mass . i envision her opening her legs, inviting the visitor inside . deep into her orifices . i hear those sounds she makes . heavy panting . rhythmic breaths . unchecked moans and sighs . the passion that she revealed at the beginning of our relationship .
the sounds i hear in my head of her past orgasms meld into my own . i drift from my body to look down upon myself . my skirt hiked around my waste . my left hand tugging my bra and shirt towards my neck as i twist a nipple . my right hand furiously stroking between my legs . i admire my body . a narrow frame with small breasts and straight hips . unlike her ample bosom and curved hourglass figure . i look at myself and i feel the wet increase . i imagine her looking at me . wanting me to fuck her . her wanting to fuck me . the skirt comes off . the shirt tangles out of my hair . the bra still somewhat affixed . the elastic pinning one nipple to my ribage . my right hand slides around my ass and i plunge several fingers into my pussy . the sound of pleasure in my throat is louder than i anticipated, and my eyes snap to see the ceiling above me, wondering if she heard me from the other room . hoping that she will join me . again, a loud gasp . and another . my ears strain to hear anything from the other room . nothing . i get louder . i want her so badly . i want her to embrace me . to let me sink into her . to entangle myself into her . i want to edge myself to make it last . slowing down my breath . silencing my voice . but a ball of lightning has already begun to take shape deep inside, directing its energy through my body but refocusing its target to my clitoris . i can’t stop . i stutter with a dry cough . my throat is dry as my cunt is wet . sweat pools on my belly and the tremor begins . it’s more intense than i anticipated . had i been a little girl, this orgasm would embarrass me . but now this flood of endorphin is my whole existence . i feel almost complete . the wish that she were here faded in that moment of explosion . i lie there almost nude looking up at the ceiling, feeling the sweat on my skin and soaking wet between my legs cool to a temperature where i feel the need to cover myself . but i don’t . i drift into slumber with a rare sense of being at ease . a momentary glimpse of oblivion .
in the morning, it is i who walks into the kitchen nude . the bra came off at some point in the night . she is already waiting for me . i wanted her to see me , but there is contempt in her eyes . she has pulled on long sweatpants and an oversized shirt . “you were really loud last night.”
“yeah, i know” i try not to stay composed but a knot begins to form in my stomach .
“you could have joined me.” i try to continue .
“no” she quickly replies.
“you disgust me.”
it hits me with a bolt .
“you wonder why i never want to have sex with you?”
this is not a dom / sub declaration of deviant play . this is cruel . yet, i stood there . defiant . my arms across my chest . my hips swung towards her . i began to get wet again . but there’s a rage to this lust . i want to to rip those baggy clothes from her body . i envision myself bending her over . restraining her arms with one hand . finger fucking her with the other . first her cunt . then her ass . then both with a thumb in her ass and two fingers in her cunt . she says no . but the wet betrays her . i don’t want her to come . i want to deny her of an orgasm . to have her drink from me . i witness this daydream from the corner of the room .
she snaps me out of this, “where did go this time? hello? what the fuck is going on with you? wake up and put some fucking clothes on. no one is going to fuck you this morning. certainly not me.”
i mumble something i regret, “please?” girlish but it belies my desperation .
“what did you say? i can’t fucking believe you!” she storms out of the room and i’m left alone .
i still wanted her .
that evening she didn’t speak of the morning episode . carried on like nothing happened . perhaps she was aware of her callousness . no apology, though . i had nothing to apologize for . from that night on, i would come to bed with nothing on . from that night on, she would curl away from me, fully shrouding her body in oversized pajamas that were the antithesis of sex . i would wait for her to fall asleep . wait for her to turn over on her back . wait for her slumber to go deep . wait for her to begin to dream . maybe she would dream of that black erotic mass . maybe she would dream of me . i didn’t care . i just wanted to know . to know if she was capable . i would slide my fingers under the elastic waste band of her pajamas, under her panties . i would feel her coiled public hair . i would feel for the space between . nothing . no heat . just a complex fold of skin, unwilling, unable, unresponsive . i would gently massaged her pubis for a minute or two . no change . not even a shift in her breathing . i would turn over and fall asleep .
in all of this, i knew the end was near our days together were full of pleasantries . i tried to flirt with her . she danced out of a kiss until she couldn’t . but that’s as far as our physical contact remained . our nights continued as before . with me crawling into the bed naked and with her curled towards the wall away from me . with me waiting for her to sleep . with me wondering if she would get wet . until one night, it happened . her breathing was still very deep . yet i could feel that hard nub of her clitoris when i probed beneath her clothes . i dared to penetrate her . two fingers easily slid in deep . but i didn’t want to wake her . i tasted my fingers and began to touch myself, as quietly as possible . her breathing got more shallow and i heard her gasp to wakefulness . i feigned being asleep . i couldn’t resist the urge to touch myself . i was so wet . my clit was so sensitive and i knew it wouldn’t take long for me . my eyes were closed, but i once again found myself projected in the corner of the room looking down . not on my body . but on hers . she pulled the sheets back and removed her pajama bottoms and panties . she looked over at me and assumed i was asleep . she made no overture about waking me to fuck . instead, she sank into the bed and began to masturbate . she was trying to be quiet, and this made her progress to orgasm quicken . i so wanted to grind my pussy into her face, to glide all of my fingers inside of her , to shove my tongue into her asshole . but i kept this vision to myself . i remained as still as possible, with only my index finger circling my clit . she had no way of knowing . in less than three minutes, she came with a clinched squeak, followed by an uncomfortable silence . at that same moment, i came too, but i made no sound, no reaction . i felt her body tremble across the surface of the bed . i heard her breathing slow down . my attempts at silence made the orgasm less than ideal, but nevertheless, i came with her, even if she didn’t know . even with my eyes closed, i could see her staring at the ceiling . her eyes wide open, illumined by the street light raking through the venetian blinds . her cunt dripping a mess of liquid, turning cold in the night air . mine a similar puddle, dripping through my fingers between my legs . she got up to wash herself in the bathroom .
i rolled over and waited for her to return . she slipped back into bed, without touching me . without acknowledging my body . without knowing our mutual orgasm . once again she fell back asleep . after an hour or so, i got up to see that it was nearly 3am . i quietly gathered some clothes and shoes . i quietly exited the bedroom . finding a suitcase and duffle in the hallway closet, i packed the clothes and shoes along with what books and records i could discern in the dark were mine . i grabbed my make-up, my laptop, phone, and purse . i wrote a note and hid it inside a book that she had left on the coffee table . a book she occasionally picked up, but mostly put back down . i exited the apartment as quietly as i could . packing probably took less than 15 minutes, as i’ve never had much in the way of possessions . i know i didn’t wake her . i know i heard her breathing through the living room and down the hallway . i didn’t need anything else . i got my last wish .
the next morning, she would rise and not be concerned that i had left . maybe i went for a run . maybe i went to work early . the next evening, she would begin to wonder why i hadn’t come home . the next day, she would call a mutual friend to ask if she had seen me . whenever she would begin to show anxiety, she would sit down and pick up a book . she would find that note . it read : ‘goodbye . i heard you masturbating the night i left . you should know that i came too . i left you and my heart is broken that you never wanted me . but i got to be with you one last time . after that, it was time for me to go .’ .