Fake (A Pretty Pill) (5 page)

I was breathing
deeply, huffing out my breaths in a desperate effort to calm myself down. 

I was touching her
intimately and I knew I wanted nothing more in that moment than to make her cry out in pleasure because I had made it happen.  My penis was straining inside my jeans, but I chose to ignore it for now because I wanted to love her; I wanted to please her.

She pushed my fingers into her soft flesh at her entrance, wetting them with her silky arousal
.  With both of our hands down there, it was quite a tight area to be working in.  She then pulled my hand back to her little nub where we began this journey and began to apply pressure to my middle finger once again.  I could feel the lubrication making the movements of my finger effortless; gliding across her point of pleasure.

“Okay.” I said, beginning to move independently of her
tutoring and thus forcing her to remove her hand, which she then brought to my face and pulled me towards hers.  I could smell her scent on her fingers cupping my face as we softly and delicately explored each other’s mouths once more.  I was surprised to find that it made me feel aggressive and desperate for her.  It meant I had to work harder on remaining in control of myself.  It was intoxicating.

When I
felt the need to gather more lubrication, I would move my hand around to her entrance and push into the slick folds there, before returning to that tiny nub of flesh which I noted was getting harder and slightly larger as I gently pressed and rolled my finger across and around it.  I continued to kiss her mouth until she needed to breathe more effectively; and then I moved down her throat.  I noticed by this time she was moving her hips softly and in a slow rhythm against my hand, moaning quietly and setting my blood on fire.

“Can I see your breasts?” I asked huskily against her neck.

She nodded and began to undo the buttons of her blouse.  She then undid the clasp at the front of her bra and peeled the cups off of her slight but sweet breasts; revealing her tight nipples peaked in arousal.

I nearly wept with intense joy right there, and I couldn’t help but lean down to kiss one of them.  But kissing them wasn’t enough.  My tongue wanted to taste them, so I placed my mouth over first one and then the other, lathing them and suckling them softly and gently.
  It had taken all my control not to lose myself in that moment and let my hormones dictate my movements.

She was moaning desperately now, and her hips were moving more insistently against my hand.  I moved my hand around once again
to replenish the lubrication and she began to drive her hips up to it as I pressed into the soft flesh once more.  I felt barely inside the beginning of her entrance, but I wanted more, so I pushed my middle finger inside, finding resistance a slight way in, but I managed to penetrate all the way.  Her movements and the constriction of the jeans and undies, forced the heal of my hand against her hard nub of flesh, and I knew that I wanted to keep my hand in this position, slowly moving my finger inside of her, whilst rubbing that part of her that seemed to make her melt into a puddle of pleasure with the heel of my hand.  My mouth continued to suckle her nipples. 

I felt like I was invincible at the time; that I was able to manipulate her body like I was; because she was undo
ing beneath my touch – my touch, and it felt incredible.

Shae cried out, not in an ear splitting fashion, more like
in complete surprise.  And then she began to close her legs and begged me to stop moving my hand against her.

“Did I
hurt you?” I asked frantically; continuing to experience the heightened emotions of watching and feeling my girl come apart; yet now feeling a fear that I had done something wrong.

“No.” She breathed desperately.  “It was amazing.  I just need to stop for a bit.” she said, giggling and smiling
back up at me.

I smiled back down at her
and sighed in relief and removed my finger and hand from her.  Then she began to lift my top off of me, so I helped her.  I helped her also to remove her blouse from her shoulders, before moving toward her to hold her naked abdomen to mine.  However, she stopped me and asked me to remove my jeans and boxers first.

I stood up beside the bed and began to self-consciously remove my jeans and boxers, all the while watching her remove her jeans and undies; till I could see her revealed before me. 

All that I had just touched, all that I had just fondled to submission and delight lay before me.  She was blonde, although slightly darker than on her head, and the amount of pubic hair was naturally light. 

In the same way
as I was looking at her, she was looking at me, checking out my nakedness.

My penis was a good handful and a bit, but I was neither light nor heavy in the pubic hair revelation.  I was standing to complete attention though, and I was in my complete glory before her.
  It was a sobering moment. 

My hips and lower abdomen
, immediately above my pelvis have some pretty gnarly scars, but I’d gotten used to them over time.  It was pleasing she didn’t appear to mind.  They were what they were, and I had no ability to change them or fix them further; but the rest of me looked pretty good.  More importantly, it was only flesh scars. My hips and everything else worked fine.  The best thing about breaking bones when you’re younger is their capacity to heal really, really well. 

I went to my bedside drawer and grappled
to pull a condom out of a packet inside it.

I hadn’t practiced putting them on.  I hadn’t
had sex before.  I would’ve been able to learn the art of condom application if I had continued at school and through year 11; since they did sexual education classes a couple of times a year with students, and got them to put condoms on vegetables and stuff.  But I left before that and began to work.  I mean I knew that you roll it down, and that it couldn’t be that hard; but Jade was always saying how it needed to be done correctly; or it could bust… so what was the right way?

I looked at Shae.  She’d done the classes.

“Could you?” I asked her, handing the condom across.

She gaped, but then shook her head and grabbed the co
ndom.  She tore open the packet and then placed the little hat over the tip of my penis.  The anticipation of her touch was too much and my penis jerked and chucked the condom off it; so we giggled nervously.  But I was mortified, even though I was strongly aroused.  The tip of my penis was already heavily lubricated.

Shae continued, replacing the hat on the tip, pinching the little bubble bit, and then unrolling and sliding it down the full length of my shaft.  I remember thinking I would come right then in the condom because of her hands.
But I didn’t.  I also remember thinking how easy it looked and how stupid I was for not knowing what to do.

I
then remember moving across her and her lying back down beneath me, biting her lip again.  I moved forward with my mouth and teased her teeth from her lip with my tongue.  Whilst this was happening, the two of us began moving closer towards a dance that would stir our bodies to a mutual love and a place of no return.

Kissing her
softly, deeply and possessively; I held and positioned my penis till it was teasing the entrance to her body that my fingers had now become familiar with.  She wrapped her legs around my hips, and the momentary pressure she placed there saw me dip the tip of my penis inside of her, till I felt that resistance.  Rather than freeze, she began to kiss me more insistently, and so I began to pushed inside of her, past the barrier of her virginity, till I was half way inside her and she gasped for me to momentarily stop.

“Sorry.”

“No, just wait a minute.  It hurts.  It’s supposed to hurt the first time.” she explained softly.

And so I waited till she relaxed and looked me in the eyes and whispered, “
Okay.”

I slowly pushed forward again, till I felt my hips push into the soft flesh of her
raised thighs.  She gasped, and once again I stilled.

After a short delay she kissed me, and then we began to kiss deeper
still, although sweetly.

I remember feeling an intense rolling wave of love sweep across my body; up from my groin and through my chest, like a flooding of warmth, a fluttering of butterflies; a little like the onslaught of an anxiety attack but not, because it was wonderful.

I slowly began to move instinctually within her, and she moaned.  I was frightened of hurting her, so I tried to pull my face up, but she held me tightly to her and I gained the courage to continue beyond any pain, to the place where we both wanted to be… pleasure.

Again I was moving, and at the same time I was battling the urge to speed up and thrust hard within her.  If it wasn’t for my training in discipline, I would’ve just gone with th
ose feelings.  But I didn’t.  I continued slowly; measurably pushing inside of her and then pulling back out; before repeating.  Her moans were growing in intensity and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the movements up for much longer – that I wouldn’t be able to give her another climax, because my body had a mind of its own and it was about to peak, regardless of the speed I was executing.  I began keening, groaning and feeling as though my penis would erupt in a greater wave and spasm than I had ever managed to generate myself.

It did, and when it did, I wasn’t able to keep the noise inside of me
; instead it too erupted, all around us.  A guttural roar that powerfully tore through us both, declaring to her that I was hers… completely and utterly.  I’d given her my heart.

I open my eyes and realize that it is of course a memory; and that my hand on my cock has just managed to bring me to a self-generated climax all over my stomach and a little on the sheets. 

All
from the memory that now tears a hole through what’s left of my shattered heart and makes me sick to my stomach, knowing I will never have her again.

I cry out in the darkness
, a bleak and forlorn sound that echoes back to me with disgust.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I tear the sheet from the bed.

I look for an anchor point.  There is nothing.  But I’m inventive. 
So I tie the edge of the sheet to my ankle.  And then I place the opposite corner around my neck, curl up in a fetal position and begin to focus on the pain that is ripping through me right now.  It feeds my desperation.  I begin to loop the sheet around my neck.  Loop, after loop, after loop.

Then I push my legs out and push my torso back.  Constricting my throat till I can’t breathe and I can feel panic overtake me.  I’m stro
nger than that though, I push through the fear and begin to lose myself to the darkness.

***

Timing.  I’ve always been pretty bad at my timing when it comes to attempting suicide.  I can’t figure out why that’s the case; but now I’m in observation; with some pretty red marks on my neck and a cough that seems intent on mocking me every time it sounds it’s barking cry.

You failed.

You failed.

You failed.

I have nothing but time now; nothing but time and regulation.  I’m a total failure and a fuckup.

I feel disgusted in myself for trying to opt out of life, and I feel disgusted in myself for not succeeding.  I feel dirty and embarrassed that I was found by a female staff member with cum all over me and the sheets, naked and trussed up in a position to asphyxiate me.  I’ve been asked a couple times if I was engaging in erotic asphyxiation, and I’m not sure they believe me that I’m not into that. 

I finally bust a blood vessel explaining to the psychiatrist that I wasn’t trying to get off; I was trying to opt out.  I explain that I was thinking about a past memory and jerked off to it and then felt the need to die, so I did the only thing I could think of at the time.
He’s nodding.

“Fucking just fix me already.” I scream at him.

“It’s not like that.  We need to work on you as a whole.  You’ve had a lot of pain and stress in the past few weeks, and nothing drug related can prevent real life from happening.  You’re going through grief, and because of that, we need to monitor you.  Most people can deal with grief, because they don’t have the dysfunctional nature that is bipolar.  However, when you do have bipolar and have to deal with loss and grief, you’re already at a disadvantage.  We need to get you past all of that, and then we’ll be able to get you back on track.” he finishes his monologue.

“Whatever.”
I say with disgust.

***

“How did you deal with me Jade?  How did you get through all of those years and continue to love me?”

“I was dysfunctional too.  We worked well together.” she reasons.

“But you never gave up.  Not when I told you about slicing and dicing people, not when I rampaged through the house and broke stuff; not even when I told you how much I hated you.  Why are you still here?” I query.

“
Because I’m wrapped around that little finger of yours, Silas.  I’ve loved you since you were born.  I wanted everyone to think you were mine, that you were my child.  I thought you were beautiful.” she smiles, adjusting her ass on the chair, trying to heft her burden to a more comfortable position.  “I can’t give up on someone I’ve loved forever.”