She closed her eyes in anguish, because she knew it was true. She was going to love this. This really was her fantasy. He knew how to excite her with words and she felt herself moving like hell with the stud again. He had lifted her bum right off the bed now and was pushing his fingers inside her there. She came again, even more violently than the first time. She thought her whole body was going to burst. Marcus was beside himself. He pulled the stud off her and played with her with his fingers, asking her what it felt like in there now. Then he got the stud to lie down and made her climb on top of him and ride him. At first she didn’t think she was going to be able to — he was so big. But she could, she could. While she was doing it, Marcus began to work on her bum, and when he was hard again he climbed astride her and entered her there. He did so with greater ease than ever before. Her every orifice was crying out for it. When he was fully inside her, she had her complete fantasy. Her eyes opened wide and she screamed and screamed as she came. Marcus was glad his flat was soundproofed. This was too much for the stud, professional that he was, he shot into her, but Marcus was not going to be finished for a long time. All night long they kept this up. The stud was an expert masseuse. Halfway through the night he produced scented oils and massaged her whole body until she was crying out for his sex again.
Eventually she became vaguely aware that he had dressed and that Marcus was handing him money. Oh God, she thought. She felt disgusted. Then Marcus was in the bed with her again, holding her close, talking to her, asking her how she liked her surprise, asking her if there was anything she would not do, asking her if she would like three men the next time, or four. Had she ever done it with a woman? Would she do that for him? He’d hire a couple of studs as well, if she liked. Telling her how much he liked to see her do it, asking her if she would like to watch him. He was out of control, he was like a junkie for her, he was hard again. He could not lose his erection that night. She had almost passed out with exhaustion and the excess of sex, she was no longer able to respond or to protest. He rolled her over on her front, pushed three pillows underneath her, and went into her one last delicious time.
It seemed like only five minutes later that she heard the familiar splashing sounds and the whistling in the bathroom. After a while out bounced Marcus. He looked fresh as a mountain stream, flashed a toothy grin, and came and sat on the bed next to her. He smelt of toothpaste and soap. Somebody important had recently told him aftershave wasn’t stylish, so he had stopped using it at once. He tousled her hair, bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips.
‘You are sensational,’ he said. ‘Fucking sensational...’
She stopped him. ‘Marcus, I wish you hadn’t...’
He grinned again.
‘That’s not what you said last night, my beauty.’
She rubbed her eyes. She thought they were probably red and puffy. She was half awake, only half conscious, perhaps. Her whole body felt trampled on and used. She wasn’t going to be able to sit down comfortably for a week. God she felt tacky.
‘That makes it worse...’ she started to explain.
‘Don’t be daft, you’re the sexiest creature in the universe and it’s my mission to help you make the most of it,’ he chuckled.
She desperately wanted to explain how she felt, but she couldn’t, not in the state she was in — and probably never to Marcus. His sexuality was even more frightening than her own, and he never seemed to have any qualms.
‘Marcus, I don’t ever want to do anything like that again,’ she managed to say.
‘What?’ he replied.
His smile was super-confident. He wasn’t really listening to a word she said.
He reached under the bedclothes, he was really motoring now.
‘You could take an army in there, you sexy bitch,’ he muttered. He pulled on his jacket and headed for the door, looking back suddenly over his shoulder.
‘Listen, don’t go to work today. I’ll come back at lunchtime,’ he said.
Jennifer groaned.
‘OK, OK, I know you’re a worn-out woman. No sex. Just champagne and smoked salmon, a cuddle, and a few reminiscences. All right?’
It was like talking to the wall. He really lived in a world of his own when it came to sex. He thought she was in the same world as him, and half the time she was — but not quite. For her there were limits. This morning she knew that for certain, and she was quite overcome with self-disgust. She got out of bed, staggered into the bathroom, stood under the shower, turned on the taps full-force and remained there for several minutes. Then she went back into the bedroom, dressed, and gathered together all the various items of clothing she had ever left in Marcus’s apartment. Having packed everything that belonged to her in a couple of carrier bags, she took off her engagement ring and left it on the dining-room table.
Then she left.
She took a taxi to her flat and when she was inside dialled Marcus’s number and left a message on his answer-phone.
‘You went too far,’ she said. ‘This is the end because I am afraid of what might happen next. I will try to keep out of your way. I never want to see you again. Fantasies are just that, fantasies. I am disgusted with both of us. How could I marry a man who would do what you did last night?’
She hadn’t meant to say so much. The message was supposed to be brief and dignified. Oh God, she was aching all over inside and out. Her lips were swollen and her breasts so tender she couldn’t bear to put her bra on. Between them they had nearly chewed her nipples off — and at the time she had been encouraging them and begging for more. Oh God, Oh God.
She could not face work, she felt terrible. Physically and mentally she was a wreck. From when she was a girl she had sometimes been in awe of her own sexuality. She hated Marcus for taking her to breaking point, and she hated herself for responding the way she had. The reality of her fantasy had exceeded her imagining of it. She had reached heights and depths that she had never even dreamed of, but it all seemed so unsavoury now. In the cool light of day she was filled with self-loathing. She never wanted to let go like that again, and she really did not want to know about the man who could calmly arrange something like that, a man who was supposed to love her, a man who had asked her to marry him. She had fallen into the sweet trap at the height of her sexual excitement. He had planned it in advance, hired some stud, paid for another man to fuck her. She shivered. What would Marcus think of next? She knew that for her own sanity she dare not hang around to find out. Worn out and thoroughly depressed, she crawled thankfully into her own bed and fell instantly asleep.
She was woken by the phone and glanced at her watch. One-thirty. She had slept for four hours. Marcus would be at his flat now and had obviously found both her message and his ring. She pulled the plug out of the phone on the bedside table. Her answering machine could do the work and she didn’t even want to hear the bloody thing ringing.
Twelve
One thing Jennifer knew for certain was that she could not go on working on the same paper as Marcus. She made a few phone calls the following day and landed another job with more ease than she had expected. She had underestimated herself. She was young, talented, and energetic, and her reputation was growing.
She was hired by the Globe as chief feature writer, and immediately threw herself both into her work and into a new relationship. She was desperate to forget Marcus and have nothing more to do with him. Their sexual exploits had really shaken her that night. She couldn’t quite elucidate it, but the feelings of sexual revulsion — as much with herself as with Marcus — which she was now experiencing had cleared her mind, so that her various worries and doubts about him had returned, in spite of the justification he had rather offhandedly offered her. She had to free herself completely.