He pushed deeper inside of his wife. Her gasp pushed her warm breath onto his full lips, her brow furrowed in borrowed ecstasy. He wound his arms around her, sharing the air between their mouths and the sweat on their skin. “Tell me you love me,” he said as he watched her. She squirmed on top of him, trapped like a field mouse and its slithering predator. He filled her again and again with no remorse for her moans. “Tell me. Say it.”
“I love you.”
He rolled over deftly, still tucked away but she was different, her scent spreading through the room: honeysuckle and orchids. She pushed her knees back so he could peer down and watch her love bloom for him. He pressed his lips onto her knees as he dipped inside of her. He could feel every muscle inside of her twitch around him and he felt himself unravel with every thrust. He wanted to hate her; he wanted to stop and drag her into the deepest hole the federal government could provide. Yet, he wanted nothing but to bury himself deep inside of her, to release the thick sorrow and melancholy that kept him captive. He was trapped in quicksand; a harrowing love for his dead wife and the forbidden lust he possessed for the thief.
Her body shook as she pulled herself up on the bar. “Come on, I need five more, Noelle,” he said, his voice gruff below her. “I can’t!” she yelled as her scrawny arms gave out and she swung from the bar. “CAN’T isn’t in our vocabulary,” he barked. Noelle dropped down onto the floor and stuck her acrylic fingernail in his face. “No, it’s in YOUR vocabulary. This is some bullshit, I’m gone,” she said as she grabbed her bag. “Noelle,” Antonio yelled after her, his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I have to do this crap. I told you, I don’t need a dad!”
“So what, you expect to go back out there and do what? Keep grifting at the grocery store? Go to juvy? Get lost in the system?”
Noelle adjusted the bag on her shoulder and bit her lip. “If you want to do this, you need to do it RIGHT. I’m offering more than these lessons…” he trailed off. His own daughter would be a little younger than Noelle and he was constantly reminded of her when Noelle was around. He felt like it was a second chance and he needed to do it right. “Do you wanna go grab some dinner?”
Alice skipped over her criminal past and the scar tissue on her uterus. She told Andrew everything else, just as she promised: the miscarriage, the depression, the pain, how she wound up in Jackie’s arms. Every feeling and thought she’d had over the past 11 months, she laid bear for her husband. An hour had gone by when she finally stopped talking. Andrew struggled to maintain his composure but he could not hold back the tears. He was genuinely heart broken, the first time since Monique LaSalle, whom dumped him 3rd French in high school.Read More »
“Sexgate” was 6 days ago.
We don’t discuss it. Dad has been giving me awkward looks and Mom is her usual bubbly self, seeming unaware of how psychologically damaged I have become. I’ve heard them three more times since the original incident. I have been camping out in my car whenever they get started.Read More »
The air got a little thinner in my Malibu. Was I having a panic attack? I rested my head on the steering wheel and took a few deep breaths. “You can do this, Erica,” I repeated to myself, not entirely convinced. Moving back home was a HUGE step backwards. I had already jumped feet first into life when I decided against all the Michigan universities, unlike my high school peers. I applied to the private Windsor University, which was 45 minutes south of Chicago, and was accepted with an almost full ride. 5 years, my diploma and $5,500 in loans later, I moved to Chicago in hopes of becoming the next hotshot protegé.Read More »
I graduated from Windsor University two years ago with my Bachelors in Interpersonal Communication with a minor in Marketing. Somehow, Malcolm Henderson Jr. High School thought I was more than qualified to serve as their guidance counselor, a cushier job than I expected fresh from college. I didn’t realize the reason behind my hiring was the fact that the school was nearly broke and they could only afford a “guidance counselor” who didn’t think to go into negotiation concerning salary. So when we received the mass memo that the school would not be reopening for the 2015-2016 school year, my jaw hit the floor.Read More »