Chapter 7c
She made love to me that night in a way I'd forgotten about. It's funny how the mind stores things. Memories you don't remember at all pop up like that with just the faintest association. The smell of cigarette smoke still reminds me of my childhood, for instance. Or maybe that's a terrible example, because I remember having a childhood. I didn't remember at all what I felt with her.
It was kind, with touches slow and light enough to prickle hairs but not be felt. Then it has hard and angry. Then it was both at once. The pattern repeated, changed, dissolved into hours of gentle thrusting and painful caresses. The world spun and I went along for the ride.
A wise man (or possibly not, but he sounds wise) once said that if something seems too good to be true then it probably is.
That had not occurred to me. I wish it never had. While we were together things didn't seem too good to be true, they were. It might sound foolish but honestly, who gives a damn about truth at a time like that? If it was too good to be true and we cut away the truth. Without that, it's just too good, which isn't really a perceivable concept, as anything too good would just start to be bad. As such, I'll suffice it to say that it was good.
As the sun came up I emptied into her again and whispered that I loved her. I didn't mean to say it and I didn't mean it (or maybe I did but at the time I didn't, I'm not quite dumb enough to believe everything my heart tells me while it's listening to lies from my dick). There was a moment of fearful silence as we convulsed in fading rhythm but her answer was the best one I could have hoped for. She said nothing. Maybe she really didn't hear me, it's possible given how little I heard myself, but I assume she took my affirmation of affection for what it was, endearing her even more to me.
We pulled apart and laid beside each other for several minutes, both on the verge of sleep but both rising for more just before our eyes locked shut. This happened several times. We stopped at some point while the sun was still up but many hours later. We were both exhausted and teetering on unconsciousness when I opened up again, just a little this time and a little more intentionally. Not as wide as I had accidentally but a I opened a little.
"That was incredible," I told her.
She said, "Homines libenter quod volunt credunt."
I said, "I believe it."
It was when sleep took me that I remembered the possibly wise man's saying. I remembered a lot. The saying was the least of it. The big thing I recollected in my sleep was that I was being hunted. No, more than that, I was not being hunted. I had already been hunted. Trapped.
The dream I had that recalled me to reality went something like this: Darkness. More darkness. Echos and no sound. Almost colors but too much darkness. Somebody said something but there was no air and hence no sound wave to reach my ear. There was no light by which to see a mouth. There was the sudden sound of an empty and infinite vacuum then a flash of blinding darkness. More darkness. I was in there someplace, I'm pretty sure of it, hidden amongst the nothingness. I blended in so well. There was all of it, all of the darkness, and then me in the center, equally dark, a shadow under the light of a new moon. When I screamed, if I screamed at all, nobody heard me.
I said to her, "What did you mean by that?"
She rolled over to face me and said, "Huh?"
"What you just said."
"I was asleep," she said, "I don't think I said anything."
We decided to not know and started the process of rubbing our bodies together again. There was a knock at the door and I knew who would be on the other side. If I didn't I at least knew it would be somebody I wasn't interested in interrupting a good fuck for. I put a finger to my pursed lips and continued our half-awake foreplay.
He knock came again. Louder. We kissed. Louder. We explored. Louder. We didn't stop. The front door opened, we could hear it, and we still didn't stop. We paused. We stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped everything.
"Hello? Are you home?"
Not a breath.
"Hello? Anybody home?"
Nothing.
"Hello?"
The only sound was the bedroom doorknob. When it opened we both just stared, mouths agape, as if Jesus Christ had tap danced into the room wearing fishnets and an elephant trunk over his penis. I felt her grip on my balls tighten and almost winced but we were like statues, hoping to remain invisible by not moving.
Cindy was wearing a Chistmas-themed see-through teddy, She said, "What the fuck! Just...what the fuck!" and stormed out, slamming the door on her way.
We both sat in stillness and silence for another minute, not wanting to risk her coming back and finding us here, both hoping she was still unaware. We waited for the moment when we could be sure she was gone to breathe.
When that moment came we laughed. We laughed hysterically and madly and still couldn't breathe. We laughed so hard we could barely keep our mouths together. We laughed so hard I could hardly stay inside her.
We laughed. We came.
She said, "Girlfriend?"
"Nope."
"Ex?"
"Not quite."
"Lying?"
"Nuh-uh."
Pause.
"Does she fuck better than I do?"
"Not even close."
What kind of person just walks on inside when nobody answers? What kind of person just walks into somebody's bedroom after that? And then to be offended? What a pretentious bitch. She must have missed me at the bar. I don't think I ever came back from the bathroom. I don't think there's another way out of the bathroom, though. I must have gone through the bar. I kissed her deeply, we exchanged the smiles people exchange after life-altering intercourse, and I left her to ache and drip in peace to go see what I'd left at the bar.
When the front door opened up back into my bedroom, her still lying spread eagle on the floor where we had collapsed in our fit of hysterics, I laid down next to her again. Maybe he is wise, maybe none of this was true. I knew I was trapped before I got this far, didn't I? If I am trapped, why shouldn't it at least be in the midst of a good dream?
