THIRTY NINE: SICK... FOR SEX

“Knew you’d find the file. See that you’ve opened it too”

I had no idea where this was going, just held my breath and hoped for the best.

  “We gotta problem, baby” I heard a rustling sound in the background.

  Nah uh, he ain’t doin’ this to me. No way.

  “Don’t go freakin’ out on me yet, just hear me out”

  The hell? What‘d he install in my laptop? A camera?

  “I need to see you in person, so I booked a room at the Kent tonight”

  A room? A room? What was I? A whore?

  “Be there, tonight after one-“ I checked my watch eleven fifty eight. Hmm… “I’ll be waiting. Oh-” I heard a snide chuckle “Don’t wear your panties… if you do, you’re gonna be sorry. Very sorry”

  I couldn’t go backstage, even though he gave me the ticket, so was I going to go tonight? Was I stupid enough to think he’d be there after all this? Bet you anything it’s another trap.

  So does that mean I don’t trust him? But I know the only way I can find out is to go.

I’m gonna live to regret this, I really am.

 


I thought the reception at my barely ‘hotel’ hotel was bad, but compared to the hotel at Kent; it was heaven. I couldn’t even grab the receptionist, zipping through like a blur, considering she was also the ‘head chef’, and the hotel maid.

  “Reservation for McLean?” She eyed me with one, mascara-smudged eye before trailing one greasy finger down the clientele list. That is, if there was one- all I saw was a page of doodles, namely “I love Mason” as the catch cry.

“Nup, no one by that name, luv” she announced smugly, slamming the book closed as dust floated through the air.

Okay, so he does think more laterally than I give him credit  “Flintstone?” She shook her head, wordless and increasingly smug as I went through ‘Jetson’, ‘Fudd’, ‘’Le Pew’, and even ‘Scrooge’, all met with a smug shake.

Great. I’m stuck. Then, it finally hit me “Daniels” a wavering look of surprise. Maybe I was getting somewhere “Daniels, J.” I queried.

I was rewarded with a scowl and the number ‘4’.

Room Four was actually the last one down an incredibly long corridor decorated with spider webs strung across the thin mock wood flooring, where not only the huntsman caught it’s prey, but cockroaches found sanctuary.

 Trust him, he didn’t close the door. And if I know him; I just bet he’s waiting for someone to walk in and watch him getting off on himself.

Strike one.

He wasn’t getting horny.

Strike two.

He wasn’t even there; the room was pitch black, and I guess they didn’t pay the electricity bill because I couldn’t even turn on the light switch.

What the hell was this?

I navigated my way through the small room, where things definitely went ‘bump’ in the night.

What was this? A sick joke? First he steals my laptop, then he gives me a void backstage pass, and now I’m tripping myself through a ‘lightless’, mangy, bug ridden hotel room.

Have I learnt nothing in the past three months?

“AJ, get your ass ou-ouch!” I tripped over something with a really sharp corner, which sent me flying smack on my chest. Eek. I think I squashed a bug.

I had just pried myself off the floor, when I felt his hands grab my waist from behind. I yelped, jumping in shock.

“Shit man, you scared me!” I reprimanded, slapping him unsuccessfully with one hand as I fell backwards into him, my whole body quashing his onto the floor.

He was hard; his hands slid down the length of my torso, down the sides of my thighs, all the while his warm, musky breath tickled my neck; I found myself involuntarily shuddering.

“Explain” I demanded, stalling time “What is the big idea, huh? You take my laptop, give me a void backstage pass-“

“And force you out here in the middle of the night, right?” His fingers trailed up my arms, along my legs and back up to my torso.

“Stop it”

“Did you wear your panties?”

“‘Course I did!”

“So you disobeyed me then?”

He was delusional; no wait, he was horny. That’s even worse “Stop it!” I muttered, as I tried to grab hold of his roaming hands, but they had just begun to massage my nipples through my shirt.

“I told you there was a price to pay, Minerva” his breath was more than I could take, and once again I was disarmed.

“Go- away” I tried to mutter, but it only turned into a helpless gasp. “You bastard”

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” he murmured in my ear, as he sucked on my earlobe. “God you’re hot when you’re mad”

Then it hit me; I was nothing more than a sick game to him. In my one moment of vulnerability, I let him in, and now; I’m merely a sex kitten, someone to help him ease his unquenchable thirst for physical intimacy.

His thirst for physical intimacy- what about mine? I chose to be alienated from this; I chose to disregard men and I guess that included the intimacy associated with it.

But in the middle of a pitch-black hotel room with the corners of the bed digging into my back and my incredibly awkward legs kicking the air, the line between what I wanted and what I needed seemed to be clearer than ever-

And I was sure I needed this.

It was as though I’d been deprived of air, and I craved it like milk to a baby. I clawed onto him as though he was about to slip away, grabbing onto him, grinding onto him as though my life depended on this very night, this very action.

It took almost no time at all as my lips began to contract and my breaths shortened, staggered and whimpered. Sweat was perspiring down my neck as my face flushed; I was panting, simultaneously cursing my lax body for enjoying any of this. I gulped, desperately trying to hold back, but insanity broke loose and suddenly, I reached my nirvana.

I was sick. Sick for sex. Who would have ever thought?

 

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