change of property
She is looking forward this business trip, not because of the trip itself, but because it presents the opportunity to meet her last lover. This one, this lover, is the one that has left the most powerful imprints on her, not only on her body, but on her soul, on her very core.
She has, willingly, become his property. He is her owner now.
To encounter him that one time was full of excitement, desire, passion. She has been in a path of pure fulfilment for the past years, and she is happy with all those experiences her temporally lovers give her. Some went as fast as they came, some are still there – the ones with best attributes, the best lovers. She is at peace with that, and in a way, the routine of not having a boyfriend has become her routine.
This time, though, things are a little bit different. He touches her with his words, some product of his desire for her, some pure lies. He touched her too in a very special way, also, the first and only night they met. His fingertips felt her every centimeter of her skin, but there were his eyes, that really touched her. During the hours they were together he made her explode many, many times. But his eyes did something more. He grab her, took her, pleased her, touched her, fuck her until she couldn’t take it anymore. And still, in the moments she needed to grasp missing air, he looked at her, and she wanted more.
She has become his property. He is her owner now.
She has been dreaming about him every single day; she can lay in bed, close her eyes and recreate every second of that encounter, and feel it as vivid as the real thing. She can feel it as if she was watching a movie, and she was the star. She can feel his fingers hungry finding and playing with her clitoris, his hands on her buttocks when she was riding him, her nipples filling his mouth… she can feel his sex poking her and fucking her behind her, under her, on top of her… She can feel him under the sheets smiling, laughing, getting hard and ready for her one more time.
He didn’t have enough of her. She didn’t have enough of him.
She wants to see him again. She wants to know if that night was just a wonderful fuck or if she is getting her feelings involved. She shouldn’t, she knows she shouldn’t get involved. But she has to find out. He is one of those men that leave serious marks on a woman but those marks are usually painful ones. He is one to believe but not to trust.
Still, her curiosity is stronger than her reason.
And now she stands in front of her door, frozen. He doesn’t know she is there, and this can go in many different ways. She reasons with herself that she should turn around, go back to the hotel and call him… and then see…
Minutes go by and she is still standing there, unable to decide what she wants to do. Her heart beasts as fast as it sis the very first time she saw him, when he turned his head and saw her. A finger on the buzzer and some steps approaching. Her heart now is out of control.
A blond woman with just a towel around her chest opens the door and looks at her. “hi” she says “can l help you?” She has an eastern-european accent. The women stare at each other for some endless seconds. She cant move, she wants to run, but she cant. Her heart has stopped, she see the lips of the other woman moving but she cant hear anything, her own lungs fighting to grasp some air. She wants to run, but she cant. “who is it?” he shows up opening totally the door, wearing just a towel around his hips. She heard that, but now is her heart, racing what comes back and forth with strong beats. He looks at her now with his mouth open, in disbelief. Both of them look at each other, stare at each other unable to say a word.
The eastern-european woman turns her head from one to another and she says something. She can’t hear what the blond woman say, but she understand is in a foreign language. Still stearing at each other, he mumbles something she can’t understand. Her feet move to steps back until her back meets the wall behind her, turns and begins a race down the stairs. One last look at him to see that in the background another woman, this one brunette, is crossing the room naked.
She is standing in the middle of a crosswalk, unable to move now. She has been running fast, long, and now she is standing in the middle of the street. Rain is pouring furiously and her clothes are completely soaked, her tears mixing with the drops falling form the sky. A car honks and startles her; she lifts her eyes and a sees a neon light in front of her.
Several drinks after, she feels dizzy. She runs downstairs to the bathroom and sees two guys talking happily, teasing each other. She looks at them and they look at her. The men look at each other wondering if they know whom she is. “fuck me” she says. Eyes wide open on the men. “fuck me” she goes again. What it seems a joke turns serious when she rips her wet clothes and exposes herself to them. “take me” she says. Both of them obey silently and take her in any possible way. The bathroom is little and all body fluids surround the air. She doesn’t enjoy it, she just wants to expose herself right now to these two ones, and maybe another one -not because she wants it, but because she wants to punish him. She is punishing herself too, she needs to delete every single good imprint she allowed him to place on her body, on her soul. “not anymore” she tells herself while the men are gropping her and fucking her non-stop.
She doesn’t know how she gets to the hotel, but now she is in the bathtub, floating, listening to her own breathing. Water is the very only thing that can soothe her. Being with all those men has left several bruises on her body, but she knows the one on her soul is the one she needs to heal. Her heart is still beating fast, but this rythm she can manage to control. She likes it in fact -it awakens her… finally. She dips herself totally in the water again and listens to her heart -she will win this battle, she knows she will…
And she won’t be anybody’s property never again…