“You were staring at him all night. Sticking your ass in his face.”
His hand eased up so I could answer him. “No, that’s not true. I didn’t even notice him until you grabbed him.”
“It is true. I saw you. Do you want to fuck him?”
“No Steve. I only want to fuck you.” Which was usually the truth. Except for right now. Right now I wanted to be as far from him as possible.
“Liar. I see how you are when we make love.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s like you’re fucking me, but you’re with someone else. Do you think of guys like that while we’re fucking?”
I stared up at him, unable to answer. I had thought I had hidden it well. Obviously not.
“You do, don’t you?” he said.
“No.”
“Well tonight, you’re going to fuck me.” His body shifted, pressing between my legs, his strength causing them to spread. I felt the head of his hard cock bump against my pussy.
“No Steve, I don’t want to.”
“I don’t care what you want.” He shifted again and his cock nudged between my lips. I tried to move away, but he was too strong.
“I said no!”
He smiled and flexed his hips, burying half of his cock into my unprepared pussy. I began to cry out but his hand moved from my throat to my mouth, cutting off my words.
His eyes locked on mine, and he said, “That’s right, look at me.” With a violent thrust of his cock, his invasion was complete.
After he was finished, he rolled off of me and onto his back. I stared at the ceiling as I listened to his breathing slow and change into the gentle rhythmic pattern of sleep. After waiting a few more minutes, I got out of the bed and went into the kitchen, removing the large butcher knife from the drawer.
I returned and stood beside the bed, watching him sleep. I brought the knife up and plunged it down, perfectly hitting the mark.
I straightened to admire my handiwork. The knife was embedded in the mattress between his legs, less than an inch below his sagging ball sack. I quickly got dressed and left.
Back in my own bed, I finally allowed myself to cry. I knew that I was at least partially to blame for what had happened, and I was paying the price for my sick perversion. I got what I deserved. I vowed to put it all behind me — to give up this obsession that could never become reality.
But I needed to hear his voice, so I called. When he first picked up I could hear the fear in his hello, wondering why I was calling him at three in the morning. But I assured him that everything was alright, and that I was sad because I had broken up with my boyfriend. I knew if I told him the truth, he would be on the next flight and probably end up in jail for beating the shit out of Steve. He seemed relieved, and we talked for an hour. When we hung up, I felt warm and happy again, and fell asleep to nice dreams.
Steve got the message, and avoided me, and I vowed to stay away from men. But after a month my body convinced me that decision had been rash, and I modified my vow to only stay away from men who resembled Shane in any way.
It was back to the nerds. I had to admit I was having fun, and they seemed very appreciative.
My mind returned to the present as I successfully removed the image of Shane and the woman from my head.
He was looking at me with an odd expression. “You ok?” he asked.
I smiled. “Just happy to hear you’re getting laid again.”
He gave me a shocked look. “Erica!”
I giggled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant to say I’m happy to hear you have some new female acquaintances with whom you share a mutual interest.”
He laughed. “Much better.”
“I’ll start on that food list. Thanks again, Shane.”
He ruffled my hair. “You’re welcome, Erica.”
Chapter 2
I put down the phone and smiled. All my friends were coming. They had been like me, feeling guilty we hadn’t talked, and said they would love to get together for a pool party and relive old times. I silently thanked Shane for his great idea, and made a mental note to tell him in person when he got home from work.
I spent the morning by the pool, and had a late lunch. As I walked back to my room, I passed Shane’s office. He owned a small electronics supply company, and his home office was usually full of interesting devices. When I was younger, I used to come in here and he would show me them and how they worked. Things like miniature radios, mp3 players, and tiny video cameras. I loved that he was so smart to understand all of this, but I loved even more that he would take the time to explain it to me. At that point, my infatuation with him was normal — just a girl getting to know her mother’s boyfriend. But all that changed one day when I came in here by myself.
I was thirteen at the time, and beginning to understand my own sexuality. I was physically well-developed for my age, but my social development lagged behind. I was vaguely aware of what sex was, and I had kissed a few boys. Several months before I had allowed Mark Gratton — a boy a year older than me — to touch my breast through my clothes in a movie theater. But when he tried to go further and slide his hand up my thigh, I stopped him.
But my physical reaction to his touch had surprised me, as I felt the early stirrings of desire spark within me. My nipple had stiffened instantly, and I felt a warm wetness growing between my legs. When I got home, I took my panties off and discovered they were damp. I worried that Mom would think I peed in them, so I shoved them under my mattress instead of putting them in the laundry hamper. That night I laid awake thinking of Mark’s hand on me, and I surprised myself again by wishing I had let him continue up my thigh.
I went into Shane’s office knowing he and my mom had gone to visit his parents, but I wanted to look around anyway. I sat in his chair and spun around a few times, taking in all the interesting gadgets around me. Picking one up, I examined it closely, wishing Shane was here to explain what it was.
I set it down and something else caught my eye. It was shoved into a cubby hole of the hutch where his computer sat, and it looked like a music CD. Pulling it out, I saw it was a homemade DVD in a clear case. On the front, there were two handwritten words: Hawaii Video.
I stared at it curiously. My mother had met Shane three years prior, when I was ten years old. She was thirty-one at the time, and he was twenty-two. I remember my grandmother not being happy with their difference in ages, but to me, he was just Shane. I never thought of him as my father, but just a nice guy who was around. I had never known my real father, because my Mom told me he wasn’t responsible enough to be a dad, so she left him before I was born. That was probably the reason she and Shane never got married — she was afraid of being left again.
Hawaii Video. I stared at the DVD. Mom and Shane had gone to Hawaii for two weeks while Grandma came and stayed with me. I remembered them bringing back a ton of photos, each more beautiful than the last. Gorgeous blue skies and water, along with unending beaches dominated each photo. When I looked at the pictures, I told them I wished they had taken me along with them. But they looked at each other and laughed, and said maybe next time.
But I didn’t recall seeing any videos from the trip. And I was sure I would have remembered. I flipped the case over in my hand. If this video was half as beautiful as the photos, I had to see it.
I carried it out to the living room and popped open the DVD player. After removing the Britney Spears concert DVD I’d been watching earlier, I replaced it with the Hawaii DVD.
I grabbed the remote and sat on the couch, prepared to be astounded by more beautiful scenery. But the first image that came up was of a hotel room. The camera was still as if it was sitting on something, and it was pointed directly at the bed. I could hear the faint sound of voices, and I listened intently.
A woman giggled and said, “I can’t do this, I’m too shy.” I realized it was my mom.