Last Hit(4)

I am Nick Anders, engaged lover of Daisy Miller, and aspiring artist. According to the university brochures, at the age of twenty-five, I am a nontraditional student. What it means, however, is that I care more about my classes than most of the other students. From my observation, college courses are merely the time one spends between drinking and doing drugs and having sex with strangers.

The art students find me attractive, yet Daisy’s friends—her classmates—are frightened of me and by extension of her. We have had no parties and no friends have visited, and I can see by the pained light of Daisy’s eyes that she tries to hide from me that this is problematic.

I part her blouse, unbuttoning the fastenings swiftly.

“No,” I whisper reverently against her soft and delicate skin. The pulse at her neck flutters wildly. I press a kiss there as well. “You are not strange or weird. Maybe different because you find joy in the things that others overlook, but never odd. And if others would judge you, then they are not fit to walk in the dust left by your shoes or drink your piss.”

She chokes at my crudity and pushes me off. “I don’t think anyone should have to drink my piss, Nick.”

Shrugging, I rub my thumbs over the planes of her collarbones. Every part of Daisy’s body is beautiful to me from the bumps on her knuckles to her dimpled thighs. I want to drown in the lushness of her body. “To some it would be a reward.”

“That’s never going to happen,” she warns with a laugh.

“Then let me drink from your cunt and I will be satisfied.”

Daisy groans. “Nick, what am I going to do with you?”

“Allow me to love you. That is all I ask.” I am begging but unashamedly, for there is nothing that exists in my world that is more important than to serve her.

“I do.” She sighs and draws me to her. “Always.”

I pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. Together we remove her blouse and pants along with my clothes until we are flesh to flesh. We lie facing each other on the bed, and I trace her generous curves with my hand. Later tonight, when she is sated and her eyes are slumberous from her orgasm, I will sketch her and try to capture her essence. I am never successful, for she is otherworldly in her beauty—at least in my eyes, and mine are the only ones that matter.

She came to me an innocent and much of it still remains despite the fact that I have ravished her repeatedly. She is knowledgeable in all the right areas, I conclude.

“Tell me, kotehok, what is this weirdness you speak of.”

Her hands are mapping the muscles and sinew of my chest. My body was as much a weapon as my gun or knife, so it is hard. We are a study of contrasts—my angular planes against her bountiful curves. It is as it should be. I still hone my body with running and martial arts because Daisy finds so much delight in my hardness. And while our lives are not in constant danger, I want to be able to protect her from any harm.

“I can’t seem to make friends with my classmates. I’m older than some but not that much older. And I look different. It’s not just my clothes, but there’s something about me that must set them off.” She exhales heavily and rolls onto her back.

I try not to notice that the exhale pushes her tits up or that her movement causes an enticing jiggle in her form. My cock notes these actions, however, and readies itself for a bout of play. Tucking it away would probably bring more attention to my inappropriate erection. I shift slightly so it is not pushing its insistent wet head into her hip. She does need something more from me than my penis, although I do not know what I can give to her.

If the threat were external, I could easily exterminate it. Those girls who giggle behind their hands could be dust in seconds. Yet, I know that is not the response Daisy needs or wants.

“You are different,” I admit. “So am I. We will never be the carefree youths we see about the campus. The dark hand of loss and suffering have shaped us into creatures who cannot be ordinary, as much as you may long for that. However, your irrepressible joy in life feeds me in a way that bread and water cannot. And Regan too responded to you in a like manner. I think these girls need only to know you better. To know you is to love you.”

Her head turns and the smile is chasing away the clouds of discontentment. That small signal of approval makes the blood surge through me like a tidal wave.

“You are completely biased, you know that right? I think sex has brainwashed you.”

“If that is true, then I welcome it. I would never want to be right headed if my world view did not have you at its center. Come kotenok, let me love you as a man should love his woman.”