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Underground eXperts United File 492
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Underground eXperts United
Presents...
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[ Smoke ] [ By Mobys Dick ]
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Smoke
I am smiling a complacent smile as I look out through the pathetic curtains,
out of the window, out at her. She has her back turned against me where she
stands, talking to Annie, a girl that has never even glanced at me or - god
forbid - talked to me; but there is a great possibility that she have talked
about me.
"He's so godfuckin' strange", I imagine her saying, with her usual
I-am-god's-gift-to-man-as-well-as-the-whole-fucking-humanity-look that is
known as her trademark. Then she would make a funny face just to show how
much she means it, before continuing with something like "He's always
looking at me. Gives me the creeps."
Annie is one of those ladies that are so out-of-this-world fuckable and
perfect - when it comes to looks, at least - that no one even dares to try.
She must be artificial, probably coming from a galaxy at the other side of
the Milky Way, or perhaps another dimension - maybe she is just an illusion.
An unexplained phenomenon created out of occasional events in nature and
science's chaotic existence. She scares me, forces me away, banishes me to a
land of shadow beyond the sun at the other side of the moon. I never quite
reach a full orgasm when I summon the picture - the manipulated image of her
that only exists in the wildest of my fantasies: She's naked, vulgar,
nothing but a cheap hooker, and I take her by force. I rush over her like
some kind of animal - summon her picture inside me and leaves my body to
attend itself. She screams, whines, and her long fingernails creates small
red paths all over me. When I reach climax the image disappears in flash of
a moment and I feel empty. All pleasure vanish and I feel dirty, ashamed.
Annie pretends that she does not see me. But I know she does, because all
of a sudden she appears nervous. I bet she is sweating, that her hands are
locked into each other behind her back like two small white knots. Then she
suddenly turns against me, looking straight at me and I turn away my face so
hard and violently that I almost snap my neck. I can feel my eyeballs
banging into my skull before finding rest in their favorite position -
focused yet not focused at anything specific. My mind and body implode. I
curse myself for making it so clear, so obvious that I am afraid of her. She
knows I am in her power, and she is enjoying every moment of it even if she
is not showing it. I hate her. I am confused. Go away, get lost! my mind
yells until she finally leaves.
Rachel is left behind, standing there all alone. She turns, giving me a
smile when she sees me, then walks toward the door. Inside she buys a soft
drink and she sucks in the stream of juice between her lips as she sits down
right in front of me.
"Hi."
She says, smiling.
I hate her too. I love her for what she can make me feel and I hate her
for what she can do to me. "Go to hell" she could say, crushing my heart in
her hands and then tear it apart right before my eyes. I am powerless and
afraid. I do not have control; I rush through my life, I try to satisfy
myself and I try hard to avoid getting hurt. I really want the alien being
that is me to have such a good time as possible. I dream about material
benefits and fear emotions.
Rachel is still smiling. She has a wonderful smile and I wish that I too
could smile so heartily. I smile back, but it is only a defensive reflex. As
long as I am smiling, she will be smiling too, and as long as she is
smiling, I will be happy. Because then I have something to smile about.
She lights a cigarette and exhales smoke. I do not like myself when I am
smiling, I seem so distant and strange. False and artificial. Do I really
have any reason to smile? I do smile when I know I have something that I
wanted for some time, and I stop smiling when I realize that it is only a
matter of time before it disappears.
When I am not smiling, I am thinking. About her, and all the other things
that can go wrong. I am about to say something to her, maybe "You're really
beautiful today" or "I'm so glad to see you" or plain and simple "I love
you". I want to say it to her. I want her to know that I love her so she can
say the same thing to me and we can smile together, united and equal. Two
pieces complementing each other. Two pieces being held together by the same
thing, that can tear them apart anytime. I like to touch her. I like to feel
the heat that is her. I feel so much more alive when she is gasping and
moaning in sexual arousal and I look forward to make love to her. I am
under heavy pressure. I have to satisfy her. I have to. There is no way
around it. She wants me to do it and she has given me the opportunity
several times.
"I want you" she gasped into my ear when a long period of chit-chat with her
parents was over and we were alone in her room. Her room is small and the
walls are empty. I felt at home there. Her father had pretended like he
liked me but I know he had big problems trying to accept what would happen
to his daughter - his sweet child - when the lights would be turned off and
we would be alone together. Had I been a normal person - like her father in
his younger days - I would be lying over and in her only minutes after the
lights went out.
"Turn on the lights again," I said, feeling awfully stupid, ridiculous. A
total failure.
"What's the matter?" she whispered in the darkness. I could hear that she
was worried and doubtful. Her hand slowly withdrew. The touch against
the naked skin on my stomach sent a flood of tickling sensations through me.
My skin grew goose pimples all over and I left out a moan. I entered another
world when she opened up my pants and started caressing me. Tiny electric
sparks flashed around inside me, my brain went into automatic and my
instincts took over. I moved my hand along her firm skin, away from her
small round breasts that had captured my attention, and down. First outside
her pants in small rubbing movements - my other hand were somewhere at her
back, then she opened her pants, took my hand in hers and guided it inside.
I was scared by the first touch. Her pubic hairs felt so astonishingly
similar to my own. She moaned, embraced me and mounted me. Then I said it.
I could feel my heart beat like it was way too big for its little
reserved place. She started massaging it, carefully and tentatively. It grew
and felt comfortable between her silky fingers. Come on, don't let me down,
I have been waiting for seventeen years for this, feel how wonderful it
feels, put me in her! it shouted at me and I closed my eyes. Locked it out.
"I can't", I shamefully said with a low and reluctant voice. "Not now."
"Why?" The question floated in the air like an emergency flare. "You
don't want me?" She laid next to me in the narrow bed. We did not touch each
other.
I prayed for my brain to return, to give me something sensible to say,
something that could explain. She let out a heavy sigh, on the brink of
crying. "I do not know what to say." My voice was shaking, like the last
leaf fighting the fall. "I want you. I love you."
There, now you have said it. That was not so hard, was it? It was hard,
so goddamn hard, and I regret saying it the moment I had said it. I was on
the verge of crying myself. She must have noticed, because now she was lying
with her head on my chest, letting her fingers wander around my ear. They
became entangled in my hair, into emotion-filled pieces of me, comforting me
as if I had been a child.
We stayed like that, stretched out next to each other, talking, I cried a
bit, she cried too, but I think it was only to make me feel better. I did
not manage to explain why I could not. I did not know myself, but she told
that I did not have to worry. We could do it when I felt ready for it. We
went out of the room, her father gave me stabbing looks, but her mother -
stepmother, I believe - smiled at us. I kissed Rachel goodbye and left. I
was nearly home when the breakdown struck me.
She puts her hand atop mine, caressing it. She is smiling. I curse myself
for not doing the same thing before her. What can I do now? Her hair, I love
it. It is black and smells like heaven, it is alive, healthy and it shines.
I want to touch it. Put my fingers inside it and let them go astray there. I
have to say something. I have not said anything to her.
Anne walks by the window, she pretends like she does not see me and gives
Rachel a smile before she disappears. I have not fantasized about her for a
long time. Not since the time I realized that Rachel was not unattainable
after all. Now my penis is a temple, dedicated only to her. We worship her.
She is our goddess.
I do not think very much of sex anymore. Earlier I was obsessed by it,
used every opportunity to fantasize and imagine how wonderful it would be.
So totally perfect. Now I fear the act. I don't know exactly why. I want to
do it, with her. I love her. She often said she loved me. She said it as if
it was something natural and she made it sound true. After some time, she
stopped saying it, probably because I never returned the declaration. I make
her feel uncertain. And she is uncertain now. Her eyes are uncertain, they
look towards mine, but never meet. She looks at me, I look at her hair. Her
fingernails are healthy and smooth, not all chewed up like mine.
I wish I could say what she wants to hear. What she needs to hear. Any
moment now she will retract her hand, like she had touched a spider. Her
face will become twisted in disgust and she will spit angry words at me.
Knife cutting words. Words that slash and stab me, and I will just be
sitting there, alone, empty, bleeding. I will feel sorry for myself. How
could she, I will ask with a crying voice and then shut the answer out.
I carefully remove my hand from hers, gently, and light up a cigarette.
I exhale smoke.
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uXu #492 Underground eXperts United 1999 uXu #492
Call RIPCO ][ -> +1-773-528-5020
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