Dirty Little Freaks (19 page)

A few days after Eva’s departure, I’m in bed under my thick blanket. I’m hiding from the empty apartment, trying to pretend I’m not completely alone.

I kill some time reading for my Sociology course, turn out the light and fuck around on my phone. Facebook is as boring as shit, some cousin I’ve never met got promoted, fucking awesome. Oh look, dude I fucked three years ago who hunted me down got engaged. I wonder if he told his fiancée how much he loves sucking cock. I chuckle and shake my head, what an ass.

I don’t know what I did, a slip of my fat peasant fingers, or some subconscious desire to see his face, but I find myself on the Bondo fan page. Well, since I’m here, I might as well take a peak. It all starts off innocently enough, ok, who the fuck do I think I’m fooling? I want to see him…I need to see
him
.
I scroll through some photos of the band on tour, Diesel is in most of them, looking like the gigantic fucking douche that bag he is, thrashing and screaming into the mic. He’s gotten a small mohawk, it’s green, I guess he’s a fucking copy cat and poser too. The guy who replaced Hush on bass isn’t bad looking, he’s blonder and younger, but fuckable...if I were still into that whole selfish asshole piece of shit musician thing.

I keep scrolling, happily mocking every pathetic little venue and bored looking crowds when
his
face pops up. Hush. They’ve caught him in mid-riff, whoever the photographer was, his eyes are slightly closed and he looks like he’s in pure ecstasy. He looks like he does when he fucks me. Fucked me. Past tense.

My hand starts to shake and I want to get up, throw the phone into the street and run to the nearest club to pick up somebody for some meaningless, cheap, nasty sex. All of this, Hush, the photo, it makes me feel used and desperate, and I hate myself for ever loving him

I click ‘done’ and back out of the band page. I have to stop torturing myself with this...this longing. I’ve never had anything to want before, before Hush, and I am longing
for him, for the brief few weeks I felt like I had everything I wanted. Eva was happy with Diesel, I was happy with Hush and everything was right with the world.

Fuck my whiny bullshit, I’m tired of feeling like this so I close the app and hit contacts. I hover my finger over Rev’s number and hesitate. Why don’t I call him? I know he’d be here in minutes, fresh face and energized by the brisk air and the promise of pussy. I don’t call because I’ve still got Hush on my mind and I feel heartsick at the thought of saying goodbye for good.

The self-destructive badass in me is horny though. I’m tired of pretending to be mature and responsible, I’m tired of being heartsick and Goddammit, I need a good fuck. The badass takes over and presses his number.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, hey, hey, I thought you’d never call.” His smug voice makes me instantly regret it, but knowing he’s packing a pretty decent cock makes me answer.

“Hey Rev, what’s up?”

“Nothing yet, what ya want?”

“You, come over now.”

He hesitates and for half a heartbeat I’m sure he’s going to say ‘no, I have a girlfriend’, or ‘no, you’re gross’. I fucking hate that creeping insecurity I go through every time I put myself out there.

Luckily Rev isn’t cruel and he only keeps me hanging for that small moment.

“Hell yeah, give me a few minutes to wrap up here and I’ll be there. You need anything?”

“No, just a fat cock, you think you can help me out?” I reply and smile into the phone.

“I thought we were being subtle, doll, but I like the way you roll. Don’t come without me.” He says, then laughs and hangs up.

I leap out of bed and run to the bathroom to clean up. Fuck, I really should try and look presentable before calling. I’ll have to remember that the next time I want a booty call. My hair is growing out and is coming in pretty dark. I like it, but at the moment it looks like something a cat ate and puked back up. I have a giant hairball on my head. Fuck. I grab some of Eva’s abandoned styling product and rub it through to the ends. I twist and rub it; nothing is working until it falls into the perfect style. A motherfucking God damned faux hawk; the bane of my existence. I screw my face up and growl at myself in the mirror. Fuck it, it’s kinda cute on me and I don’t think Rev’s coming over to compare hairstyles.

I slap on some black eyeliner, loving the Joan Jett look, and give myself a whore’s wash. I run a warm washcloth under my arms and across my pussy, get the stank out. I hope Rev’s gonna go downtown tonight, my cunt is aching for some eager lapping. Fuck, why didn’t I invite him over sooner? I forgot about how much sex makes me feel alive. If only I could bottle up this excitement and main line it every day, I’d never have to touch another human being or risk having my heart destroyed every time I open my cunt for a good time.

I rush out to the living room and sweep a pile of newspapers under a pillow on the couch, head to the kitchen and brush the crumbs into the sink, throw all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and stop to look around.

Fuck, I’m a slob. Less than a week on my own and the place looks like hell. I remind myself to hire a cleaning woman a few days before Eva gets back so she doesn’t bounce me out on my filthy ass. Maybe that homeless hipster dude was my soul mate after all.

I’m wearing a black bra and black boy undies that have a red pair of lips on one ass cheek. I wonder if Rev’s gonna go for some anal action tonight and assess the lube situation. I’m good. I’ve got enough to get greased up like pig at a county fair. Without a plug of coke up my ass, I need to be right oiled up to take it from behind.

Last thing is music; with Eva gone I am completely in charge of the surround sound in the living room. The bitch upstairs is probably going to move out before Eva’s back if I keep up with the Misfits on full volume much longer. I can’t help it, I need the music to keep me a little less lonely when I’m making dinner or studying. Good old-fashioned punk is much better than the break up depressing pseudo country shit I’ve been listening to.

I barely hear the knock on the door over the bass. Sometimes I hate Hush for ruining bass for me, I remember that night I met him and connected to the music on such a deep level.

Rev looks fantastic. I don’t know if it’s that a burger looks like prime rib to a starving man, or I seriously underestimated his hotness because of Hush. His body is pretty fucking tight, he obviously works out and cares about his appearance. He smells delicious, again his musk is mixing with an intoxicating shower gel to create the perfect, “I’m gonna fuck you” stink.

“Hey you,” I say and open the door wide. I can’t help the grin on my face as he walks in. He kicks his high tops off on the mat and shrugs out of his jacket. He hands it to me and I turn as though I’m going to hang it, and promptly drop it on the floor next to his shoes.

“Oh, cheeky, I like that,” he says and reaches for me. His hands are all over me in an instant, and I go limp, allowing my body to be pulled against his. I can feel his rock hard cock in his pants and his breath tastes like mint when he kisses me. He must have also cleaned himself up before he came over; this flatters me.

We break apart and I say, “I’m always cheeky, you’ll get used to it. Do you want a drink?”

“I brought you something,” he says and hands me a brown paper bag. I open it up to see that he’s brought me an elegant green bottle of Absinthe.

“I hope this isn’t that fake Czech shit they pass off as the real deal,” I say and immediately hate how ungrateful I sound. He looks perturbed.

“I don’t think it is, I’m apparently not an expert, but the clerk assured me it was mind fuckingly delicious.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a pretentious fuck, it’s my go-to defense mechanism. What I meant to say is thank you for the lovely gift, shall we crack it open?”

“Definitely,” he replies, puts his arm around my waist and kisses the top of my head, to the side of the faux hawk. “You don’t need to be defensive around me, Jade. I don’t bite and I really like you...like,
really
like you.”

I lean against him but can’t stop the deep fluttering in my stomach that tells me this might have been a bad idea. It isn’t exactly fair to use him to alleviate my boredom while I know Hush still pumps through my veins with every heartbeat. Maybe I’ll learn to love him like I loved Hush, I try to tell myself, but somewhere, deep inside, I know I never will.

It just so happens that we have a slotted Absinthe spoon in the apartment from one of Eva’s family trips to Europe. They had always tried to drag me along, but I could never quite get the courage up to intrude on their vacations the same way I had on their regular lives. Weird, I know. I place a sugar cube in the middle and pour the Absinthe over, letting the sugar dissolve. I make two drinks this way, hand him one and down mine in one shot.

I don’t bother with the sugar by the third drink, and don’t notice that he’s still nursing his first. I just love the warmth creeping through my body from my stomach, radiating outwards. This enables me to ditch the cynic and embrace the needy, horny side of me.

“You look amazing,” Rev says, “I love the hair.” His own hair is now shaggy and styled forward around his face, I love the tousled Beatles look it gives him. Shaggy, shag, hehe.

“Thanks, you do too, is that a new tat?” I ask and point at the snake encircling his forearm.

“Good eye, it is. It’s the beginning of a full sleeve, the Adam and Eve fable on my arms,” he replies. He holds the other one out and I see the tree with Renaissance Adam and Eve underneath. Very cool.

“Nice work, I’m thinking of more myself,” I say.

“I remember your ink.” He replies, and smiles, “It’s gorgeous, you can tell you put a lot of thought into it.”

I smile back in smug satisfaction. I love it when people notice that I care about the work on my body. I know it could be hollow flattery, but I’ll make the conscious choice to take the compliment.

“Thanks,” I say and pour myself another drink. I down it in one long gulp, the bitter fire no longer making my throat clench in protest. “So, what now?”

He grabs my glass and sets it on the counter with his, then turns to me and says, “I think you know.” And I do know, I see it in his eyes and I feel it in my pussy. We are going to fuck, raw, raunchy nasty fuck. I need this so bad I can almost taste it, I will be tasting it soon enough.

I reach up and pull him down to meet my urgent kiss. He complies and wraps his arms around me. I feel him pulling me up against him, higher and higher until my legs start to wrap around him instinctively. He pushes me up onto the counter and runs his hand up my inner thigh. He shoves my knees farther apart, leaving no question as to where he wants to be. I feel him prod my slit with his fingers, finding my clit with one rough tip. He rubs it gently while we kiss, and I can feel the music pulsing through my body as I grind against him. I feel free again, for a few moments I can forget that Hush ever came into my world, that I’m back to square one.

I reach down and pull at his jeans, trying to get his cock out. I want to fuck my way to relationship amnesia; I want him to pound any remnants of Hush out of my memories. He helps and soon I feel the head sliding up my inner thigh. I want him inside of me and try to pull him inside of me.

He teases me though, he rubs the head of his cock along my slit, it’s soon slick with my juices, and he pushes through to touch my clit.

“Come on,” I almost whine with urgency and try to adjust ass on the counter to pull him inside of me. Of course it doesn’t work, he pulls back so he’s still rubbing my clit and driving me mad, I’m a bitch in heat panting for his sex.

“What do you want?” he whispers in my ear, his voice hoarse with longing. At least this is driving him as mad as it is me.

“I want you to fuck me,” I reply immediately, no longer giving a shit if I seem desperate. I am desperate and I need cock.

“Do you want me?” he asks, sliding his cock down to rest right at my opening. I wrap my legs around him tighter and insist he comes on in. He laughs and resists.

“I do, I want you inside of me, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight, I want you to fill my cunt with your cum and then do it all again,” I breathe against his ear. I feel his cock jump when I say that, so I know we’re on the same wavelength.

“I know you want me to fuck you,” he says and slides maybe half an inch inside of me, parting my cunt and setting my slit on fire with need. “I know you want me to bury myself inside of you, to fuck you until you can’t walk, to flood your pussy and make you lap our juices off my dick. I know this,” he continues, pulling out, then sliding in again, just a fraction, and adds, “But what I want to know, is do you want me?”

I clue in to what he’s getting at. I don’t really want him, at least in the way that he wants me to want him. Does it make me a bad person to use him for sex and to get over Hush? They say the best way to get over one man is to get under a new one, so here I am giving it a shot. I don’t think that makes me a horrible person, and to be honest, at this point I don’t fucking care. I’m back down to horny cavewoman level. Cunt, cock, cum, pussy, dick, fuck, and all that. So I try not to hate myself for what I say next. “Yes Rev, I want you,” I breathe softly into his ear, “only you.” I feel him tense again and he fucking plows my cunt like the rutting antelope who won the fight. I can feel triumph ooze from his pores. I can smell it on his skin. He’s mating with his woman who he thinks he’s stolen from his rival. Fucking men, I tell you, they all need to feel like they’re the only one who’s ever been inside of you.

He rams me like that for a few moments, he doesn’t last long though, I didn’t expect him to. I feel my release building at the same time as his; I lean into him and bite his neck, hard, and hear him gasp with pain. This sends me over the edge and I cum hard, it’s almost painful and completely physical. I am unable to make the emotional connection I had with Hush, so I concentrate on the feeling of flesh on flesh, but it’s enough to get me off.

He leans against me and moans his orgasm; it’s a sexy, guttural sound that sends shivers down my spine. I let my bite turn to a lick and slide my tongue up to his earlobe. I nibble, lightly, then trail kisses down his neck to his mouth. His kiss tells me he feels more than I do, and I feel a stab of guilt that I am using this sweet man to ease my own loneliness. It disappears as pulls his jeans up, picks me up off the counter and takes me to my bedroom.