“Mylittleone wants you anyway, and I don’t think you gave me such a bad idea," he says playfully, while he is getting out of the parking lot to god knows where. “And it won’t be a rape, because I know you can’t resist me.”
If I think about it better, I actually need a distraction to push aside a part of my pathetic life. My littlegirlagrees with me, slowly pulsing and feeling the wetness appearing.
To hell with my sexual need. It appears in the most inappropriate moments.
I can feel Lucas often turning his gaze to me, like he wants to address a question, but hesitating.
“I want you to answer a question and be completely honest with the answer you’re gonna give me.”
What did you just say?
“I feel like I’m interrogated, but go on,” I say, softly laughing.
“How good did Marshall make you feel?”
I freeze, trying to process what he just asked me.
“What kind of question is that?”
“Just answer me. Sexually speaking.”
“Only you can ask me these kinds of questions in a serious situation.”
“Anmara…”
“No, seriously, that is what you did when you were little. You were always trying to avoid reality by asking the stupidest questions.”
“It’s not stupid for me," he says and looks at me for a second.
That got me thinking. I want to open my mouth and speak, but I’m too surrounded by my memories to be able to say something, because I don’t find exactly what I’m searching for.
Through Marshall’s actions, I felt loved. He made me feel good when we had sex, but despite the happiness he brought me, he never managed to do what Lucas did. I won’t tell him that too soon. He’ll get all high and mighty, or he’ll look at me with pity. I don’t want any of that now.
As for Marshall, I managed to get orgasms with him just when I was helping. If I could do that, given the positions he sometimes put me in. Almost every time after we had sex and didn’t get some help, he let me in the room to satisfy myself. Only the presence of his dick was not enough, however horny I was.
I thought that something was wrong with me, that I didn’t finish like I read in books or saw in the movies. Then I read some articles about that, and I saw how normal I actually was.
Why didn’t I think about this before? I asked him to come down, but he wasn’t patient and didn’t stay long. His genital organ needed a tight space to spread his sperm, and his hands needed to always be on other parts of my body.
He accepted my help, but he never let himself finish in my mouth because he didn’t want to feel his taste when he was kissing me. That was the excuse. I didn’t comment, however much I wanted to feel histasteon my tongue. I didn’t like to know that I upset him, especially since I’d seen how he acted when he was really angry.
I remember that he was on the phone in his office one day when he received some bad news. He started to scream with an unrecognisable voice, and he scared me so much when I heard a strong noise. I went into his office to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
There was broken glass everywhere, from a big vase in his office, and a gigantic hole in the wall next to Marshall. When hesaw me, he got so furious that he closed the door in my face. Then he punched it hard, making me shiver. I’ve never seen him so angry before. I didn’t think it was possible, given how calm he always was. He scared me horribly, and I thought that if he hadn’t closed the door, I would’ve become the victim of his nerves too.
That night, he walked away and didn’t come back until morning.
I let him bounce back. I didn’t insist on stupid questions about what happened or what I could’ve done to make him feel better, even though I wanted to do that. He didn’t talk to me that day either. Just at night, he came next to me in bed and hugged me from behind. He said he was so sorry for his behaviour and swore to never react like that in my presence.
The truth is that he hung onto his words. I never saw him that angry after that moment. When he was about to become like that again, he went away and blew off steam elsewhere. I was okay with knowing he didn’t take his anger out on me, but at the same time, I wanted to calm him down. I said it was better this way and didn’t even think about what these alarming signs he gave me could really mean.
“Wow… and I thought I had some nasty experiences,” Lucas says, getting me out of my thoughts and making me realise I still haven’t answered his question.
“Not that I had bad experiences…”
“But?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Uhm, it is strange to talk to you about that. I don’t even know what to say…”
