The Juliette Society(32)

And he must have heard me, because he does. I raise myself up higher on my toes so he can hit me deeper, and it feels so good that my legs almost buckle underneath me.

I’m bent over the coffee table and Jack’s fucking me from behind again. Not doggy style, but froggy style, resting on his haunches, with his hands pressing against my lower back to support himself, fucking me deep and hard. And it feels as if his cock is going to bore through my pussy, right into the table, like a human drilldo. And we’ll be stuck there. Screwing and screwed to the table.

We’re fucking on the kitchen counter. My knees are hooked over Jack’s shoulders. And he’s standing on tiptoes now so he can get just the right angle. I’m sliding back and forth on the counter as he thrusts into me and I’m afraid I’m going to fall off. I sweep my hands behind me for something to grab onto. My hands find the wall, they find the spice rack attached to it, and I think, that’ll do. But it cracks off almost immediately and comes away in my hands and the spices spill all over the counter. Jack’s fucking me and my ass is being rubbed in cumin, ginger, garlic, salt and pepper. I’m marinating in my own juices and my ass is ready to be cooked, but I come multiple times before he’s ready to leave his yeast in my oven. And as I come, my asshole puckers and snorts a pinch of chili. The pain is excruciating. My asshole is burning and my pussy’s on fire. And the flames consume my body and lick at my brain. We’re both burning up in the heat of our love.

I’m lying on the hard floor, on my back, and my arms and legs are wrapped around his, like a baby monkey clinging to the underneath of its parent. And Jack’s pounding into me so hard that I want to scream, but instead I dig my nails deep into his back and draw them all the way up until I reach his shoulders. I feel like I might have drawn blood and he must be into it because he slams into me with thrusts that are even more powerful. And by the time we both come, we’ve moved the length of the entire hallway, from the front door all the way to the bathroom, and I have friction burns all along my back.

I fast forward through all these scenarios in my head, as if I’m flicking through hotel porn channels, trying to get off on the previews alone. And I switch back and forth between them while I frig myself into a stupor. I stuff myself until my fingers ache and my pussy’s sore. Until I can’t take any more pleasure. Until I feel broken.



I’m lying there, sprawled on the bed, all tangled up in soaking wet sheets, my body exhausted, my mind floating somewhere between half-sleep and unconsciousness. And I remember that, last night, I had the strangest dream. At least, I think it was a dream. But I can’t be sure and have no way of knowing. All I have is the memory, the sensation of knowing.

I remember that just before I fell asleep, I heard a drum. The beat of a big bass drum; slow, insistent, reverberating like the sound of the ocean. I hear it far away, then closer, and closer, until it’s on top of me, moving across my body, from my feet up to my head.

Vibrations pass through me in waves, leaving in their wake a warm, tingling feeling. In my fingers and my toes, along my arms and legs, whirling around my belly.

And then the drum is inside me, a steady throb at my crotch, a pounding in my head that gets louder and louder and louder, until a galaxy of stars explodes in front of my eyes. And I’m flying through them, spinning like a gyroscope, jerking in one direction then another. Or they’re flying through me, because I’m fixed to the spot. I can’t move. I’m inside my body and out of it at the same time. I am a galaxy of stars.

Then everything goes black. Pitch black. Like someone turned the lights out on the universe. I am in a space with no beginning and no end. No light. No sound. I am numb. I am immobile.

And I can feel someone tugging at my pajamas. I don’t struggle, I don’t feel afraid. I let them fall away from my body.

I am being carried, naked, in the arms of a man. Being carried like a baby in arms so large they seem to wrap themselves around me completely. Arms so hairy it feels like I’m swaddled in a coat of feathers. In these arms, I am pitching and rolling like a boat on the ocean, but I feel safe – safer than I’ve ever felt before – and warm.

And the warmth, I realize is not the warmth of the hair on his arms, not the warmth of feeling safe and secure, but the warmth of the sun. A brilliant, late afternoon sun, still burning bright, and bearing down on me. A white light, blinding me. A white heat, enveloping me.

And I can feel the steady throb at my crotch again, but my head is clear. Absolutely clear and alert and aware. I can hear voices all around me. Voices taunting and mocking me. And I suddenly feel utterly exposed and ashamed of my nakedness. I desperately want to cover myself and disappear. But there’s nothing at hand, nothing except the sun. So I grab it and wrap it around me like a towel. Everything goes black again and I shiver.