everything I wanted. It was perfect. But everything I’ve been running from smacked me hard in the face early this morning. I swallow thickly, the lust disappearing and the shame creeping in. He rolled over and pulled my back into his chest. He fucked me from behind, but he was tender. He was gentle. He kissed my neck, and I had to close my eyes and pretend. The pleasure stopped. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t get off. I feel shitty, having been so aroused moments before, and enjoyed being used for his pleasure. But then numb to him.
The truth is, I want more of his roughness. I’ve always needed that. My heart clenches and I pull away from the window, pulling my hobo bag into my lap and holding it against my chest. I feel hollow inside. How disturbed am I that he couldn’t make me cum? I had to fake it when he told me to cum with him. For fuck's sake, I’m living a fantasy. But even this morning when he threw me on the bed and fucked me like I wanted, the only thing my body craved, I couldn’t get the fact that I’m broken out of my head. Fuck, it hurts.
I feel sick about it. I just don’t understand it. It makes me fear that I’ll never be normal and that this experience will only serve to show how depraved and fucked up I am in the head. I bite the inside of my cheek and pull out my phone. I should call Dr. Andrews. I cringe at the thought. I know there’s doctor-patient confidentiality, but what’s she going to think about this arrangement? Whore. I lean my head back against the seat as the bus goes over a bump and jostles me slightly. She’s going to think I’m whoring myself out. I run my hand down my face and try to ignore those thoughts that keep me weighed down with guilt and shame. All I need to do is concentrate on the way I felt alive under him.
I’m pulled out of my musing as the bus comes to a stop in front of the Explicit Designs building. Wincing, I get up from my seat and head inside, swallowing the lump that’s growing in my throat. In the lobby, I try to pick up speed, but I’m forced to take it slow. I don’t want to draw attention to my awkward gait.
Damn you, Lucian.
A small smile accompanies me as I walk slowly, reveling in the slight sting that’s directly connected to my throbbing clit. It takes me a while, but I make it up to my office without incident. Once inside the not-nearly-as-private-as-I-need-it-to-be office, I take off my coat, and set it down on my glass-top desk, letting out a shiver. It’s brutal outside.
Which reminds me; it’s winter break, and my tuition is due. At first the reminder sends a jolt of worry through me, but then I remember the money. I have enough coming to me at the end of the month to eliminate my debt and pay off my final semester’s tuition. The thought should fill me with shame and trigger the whore comments I’ve been hearing in my head, but it doesn’t. I know what I’m doing some people might consider degrading, but I don’t really care. I would want this regardless of the money. That has to count for something.
I set my purse down on the desk and bring my cup of coffee to my lips. I blow on it out of habit, but it’s cold by now. I don’t mind though; I just need the caffeine to get me through the day. I check my email and then get started working on Debra’s scheduling for her upcoming fashion show. I spend most of the day doing clerical work, getting up several times to go to the bathroom to apply aloe vera to my sore ass cheeks. Lucian told me to, and each time there’s less and less of a sting that accompanies it.
Around closing time, I get a surprise when Carla, who I haven’t seen all day, pops her head in the doorway, causing me to jump in my seat. I put my hand to my chest and breathe out a slight sigh of relief.
“Hey chica, how’s your day going?” She’s gorgeous today in tight red jeans that hug her curves and a white button-up shirt, complete with glossy red heels. I absolutely love the outfit. It