Megan: Rewind... Now Fast Forward (M/F)
Eyes half closed, Greg inhaled the thick smoke of his Camel cigarette. By no means was he tired of waiting; He was just eager to know the things which had happened behind the closed doors of the second bedroom.
The living room of the three-room apartment he and his friends had rented in Paris was a mish-mash of old and new: the narrow yet high windows, the classic sill, the squeaking parquet-covered floor, the high ceiling and the flamboyant looking chandelier were all from the mid-30s. But the air was filled with the smell of new furniture. He could have seen the pitch-black sky, if only the drapes had been pulled aside. Yet the windows were shut. He wanted them shut, in a futile attempt to muffle out the honks or the cars outside, the cacophony of the night traffic. From the corner of the room, a tall lamp’s obscure light was melting softly in the darkness of the living room. From the other corner, the 42 inch screen Sony was pouring a rainbow of mixed strong colors over the walls and the furniture, over his face, into his tired eyes. He could pick up bits and ends of conversation from the variety of noises the TV was broadcasting.
He didn’t hear the creak of the door opening, but with the corner of his eye he saw Ryan stepping in. Ryan was not the strongly built kind of guy, but something in his attitude, in the way he moved and talked and looked at people, made him more imposing than a 6 feet tall American football player. He slid inside like a cat, stepping on his tiptoes, and went straight for his pack of Parliament Lights on the table. His tensed shoulders relaxed.
“How is she?” – Greg questioned, pushing the lighter and the ashtray in Ryan’s direction.
“She fell asleep.” The lighter’s flame flickered as he tilted his head to light the cigarette. “Why didn’t you go out with the rest?”
“I wasn’t in the mood really…”
Ryan sat down and exhaled the smoke towards the floor. The thin grey line lost its contour, spreading in the air. With two bony fingers, Ryan massaged his forehead up and down. He felt the beginning of a headache building between his eyes. His neck cracked and he stretched it from side to side. “So what the fuck happened?” – Ryan asked in a low tired voice.
“Sorry we let them get out of hand,” Greg said, rotating constantly his glass of Sprite on the table. He felt somewhat guilty for not overseeing the outcome. “When you were in the shower Alice and Meg had a fight again – the crap with who is stronger from the two of them. More like teasing, really. They were playfully chasing each other with their belts… And we let them, because it seemed like they were having fun, you know? Yeah, I know I’m guilty: I know Meg well enough to realize she wasn’t actually playing. You know how her eyes sparkle. And you know the face she makes when she pretends to be fine but she isn’t. And you know that all she wants is to get back at you but she doesn’t know how to do it. I mean you’ve seen it before, right?…”
Ryan nodded. Of course he knew. He was teasing her about that.
“Well,
Ryan pulled a face. “Fuck, you’re dumb… All of you. I am somewhat blaming you because you know her and you shouldn’t have let this stupid game go so far. You know her!”
“I know, man… But we couldn’t control her. And lately I don’t even know what to do or what to say anymore… She’s overstressed with the job and the exams and her family and money and all that. You can’t even make a joke anymore without her getting mad. She takes things personal. She’s never been this bad before.” As much as he wanted to make it sound like he was pointing out a fact, he still sounded as if he was complaining.
Ryan nodded. “We are her friends and we are supposed to help her. She’ll be ok if we help her.”
“Of course I would help her. But I felt powerless… like that time I called you to come pick her up from the club. If she has a drink or something, you can’t reason with her anymore. She’s gone wild. And the only person she listens to and fears is you. And even if she says she doesn’t care what you think or say, she does. Man… I just hope you are aware of it.”
Ryan nodded. He was aware of it. He’s been aware of it for a few months now. As aware of it as he was of his own feelings for her.
“It’s late. I think I’ll go to bed. Is she gonna be ok tomorrow?” Greg asked, slowly standing up.
Ryan smiled. “In which way?”
“You tell me…”
“Well, emotionally she will be fine by
Greg couldn’t suppress his own smile. “You two are mad.”
Ryan laughed. “I know. But we’ve never claimed to be normal, either of us. Just tell the others not to make any comments about it tomorrow. I don’t want her pouting for the rest of the week, ok?”
“Of course. Ok man, I’m off to bed. Night.”
Ryan reached for the pack and lit another cigarette. He felt the need of cool fresh air. He sat and smoked his cigarette in the open window, gazing from the fourth floor of the apartment to the live city below. He thought of tonight and he smiled. Something clicked in his brain. It clicked in a wrong sort of way, but he didn’t mind. He felt his erection yet he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop it. Not this time. Not again.
Rewind…
Water dripping from his wet hair on his damp t-shirt, bare feet, jeans pulled on without having had time to dry himself – Ryan was knocked into reality by the speed of the events: a second ago he was taking his hot shower, then Greg was violently knocking on the bathroom door and now – now, he was staring at Meg’s figure sitting on Alice and trying to free one of her hands from Alice’s clutched hands. Rage was radiating from both sides but on Meg’s side blind anger eased out from every pore. He could picture her hammering a fist in
Neil and Greg were trying to separate them with the attitude of two pussies running around and screaming. Ryan didn’t think; he acted. It took him two seconds to evaluate the situation and half a second to bend over Meg’s back, reach from the sides and seize both her wrists. He twisted them. “Let go,” he ordered. His calm order relaxed
“Let go of her hands, I said,” Ryan lowered his voice even more, to an almost threatening level. Louder than a whisper, he spoke right into Meg’s right ear, bending even more on top of her.
Her chest was rising and falling fast, as if she couldn’t breath. Ignoring the pain of her skin crippling under his hold, she was twisting her hands trying to free herself. As one of her hands slid out of his lock, the hand turned into a fist, and the elbow violently hit back into Ryan’s stomach. The boy tensed his muscles too late and he felt the acute pain of not being able to breathe for a few silent seconds. The same seconds in which his own vision was covered in red and his jaw tightened. He lost his mood for negotiating or trying to be gentle, not to hurt her. He seized her hands with all his power and caught them in one hand. Two fingers grabbed her ear.
“If you hit me again, I’ll punch your teeth out, got it?” He said, recovering his breath.
“Go fuck yourself. Let go! Let go I said! Fuck… off…!” She tried to escape but the burn in her earlobe restrained her movement. She found herself forced to stand up, while her prey,
Meg’s leg went up and hit Ryan’s hard. Ryan’s eyes closed in pain but no sound came out. Teeth gritted, he turned to the rest of the party: “You guys wanted to go out. I suggest you do now. Greg, stay if you want. Neil, please take
He didn’t remember if or when the others left the room. He had one focus only: Meg. Still keeping her hands locked he dragged her toward the bedroom. He couldn’t tell how many punches, hits, and bites he got before he dragged her past the bedroom door: his own anger made him immune to them all.
“You are so fucking dead,” he informed her, with one hand turning the key inside the key lock and isolating themselves from the rest. His fingers entangled in her hair. He brought her face close to his. “Look at me.” She shut her eyes, pouting. “Look at me, I said.” He pulled harder on her hair. She whined, trying to hit back. He put more pressure on her wrists causing her to try to twist in pain. He didn’t allow her. “You fucking look at me when I’m talking to you.” She opened her eyes. Pain was written all over them. She was on the verge of crying but she tried to control herself. He locked her gaze. His words were as dark and threatening as his look: “You try to hit me one more time, I’ll snap your wrists. Got it?” She swallowed hard but didn’t answer. “Did you get it, I asked? And you fucking answer my questions when I ask you something. Or else, it’s bad for you. Really bad. Did you get it?”
“Yes,” she retorted, anger in her voice. It was almost a shout.
He pulled more on her hair. She cried.
“I don’t like your tone. Let’s try again. Yes or no?”
“Yessss,” she whined trying to escape the pain.
“Fine.” – he said. “You want to rebel? Fine by me.” He pushed her towards the bed and began unbuckling his black belt. “Then you should be able to face the consequences accordingly.”
She stepped back until she was three steps away from him, her back resting on the wall.
“I don’t have to face any fucking consequences.”
“With me, you have. Get your ass here,” he pointed with the belt toward the spot in front of him. The tone was like ice: too calm to be soothing; it raised goose bumps on her arms. She shook her head no. “Why?” – she asked.
“Because I’m gonna tan your ass blue, that’s why. Get your ass here.”
She shook her head no again. Her limbs felt like jelly.
“Bring you fucking ass here, Megan. If you make me come there to get you, it will be really bad for you, trust me. So start unbuttoning those jeans already and come here.”
Her eyes shut and tears gathered in their corners. She allowed her body to slide down along the wall, until she was a crouched figure on the floor, knees clasped to her chest. Ryan walked to her without additional words, seized her ear again, dragging her up. She cried in pain and grabbed his hand, squeezing hard, hoping this would convince him to let go. He didn’t. He threw the belt on the bed and with one hand proceeded to unbutton her jeans. Her hands moved their attention to the buttons. The grip on her ear burnt even more. She sobbed. The hand pulled the jeans to her knees; he threw her small body face down on the bed. She turned around and tried to crawl away. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her back, until she laid face down on the bed, head in the pillow, aligned on the side of the bed. He had to fight her again to bring both her wrists to the small of her back, then pin her down in that position. Her body arched back as she felt him reaching for the belt uncoiled at her feet.
It was hell. The pain was hell. Her inability to escape was hell. Her crying in front of him was hell. And she hated that she had reached the point to beg him to stop. By the time Ryan had finished his job she had probably apologized even for the fact that she was born. And nothing had made any difference. He had freed her hands in the end. She didn’t bother to cover her burning ass anymore, but crossed them in front of her and buried her face in the sleeves of her polo so she could muffle her cries.
When it was over she didn’t move.
He threw the belt back on the bed and simply sat there watching her sobbing. She had no intention of standing up.
“Lift up,” he said softly reaching for the top of her jeans. She raised her hips and he pulled her jeans completely down, slowly, lifting one leg at a time.
He opened her backpack and groped for the wet napkins. It took him a full minute to find them, buried under make-up items, lens cases, keys, and god-knows what else. He took one out and handed it to her. She took it gingerly without looking at him. He waited patiently for her to blow her nose and clean her tear-stained cheeks and eyes.
“Do you want me to cover you? Are you cold?” – he whispered.
She shook her head and turned her head on the pillow towards him. He sat himself on the floor next to the bed. Her hand reached out from under the pillow, looking for his. When he took it, she squeezed it hard.
Fast Forward…
It wouldn’t have happened, if it weren’t for her move. Unknowingly, she opened the Pandora box when her warm hand had reached under the blanket looking for the comfort of his hold.
His mind had been silenced. He felt the heat radiating from her small tired body. The smell of her skin, of Brazilian coconut mixed with her flesh’s natural scent. His finger touched her nape, stroking her skin. She let out a sigh, as if in a dream, and turned her head towards him. His lips got closer, as if testing. He could have kissed her forehead, like you’d do to a sister, but her quick breathing in his neck caused the synapses of the neurons to shut down. His lips touched hers just once. Yet it wasn’t enough. She pushed closer for his touch. Her lips parted. His tongue slid in madly, in hunger.
His hand clasped her neck, the thumb running up and down her jugular. A primitive instinct to cause her pain, to punish her, and to love her mixed together. His other hand grabbed her round bottom, squeezing the flesh. He was aching to fuck her; he could see nothing before and beyond the moment. “Turn around,” he whispered in her ear. It was a harsh whisper, almost a groan. Almost an order. She obeyed and he helped her roll on her tummy. She twisted her head to one side, so their tongues could meet again.
He threw away his boxers and slid on top of her, locking her neck with his arm. Softly biting on his forearm, she hid her deep moans.
He mouthed again the words in her ear: “Open your legs.” He was hurting to fuck her. He realized he’d been like this for longer than he could remember but he had always tried to hide it. He had always tried to ignore the feeling.
He pressed himself against her moisture. As he slid inside of her for the first time she tightened her grip on his forearm. For how long she hasn’t been fucked, he wondered. She was tight. But wet like hell too. He rocked inside of her slowly first, listening to her small noises. Then he pounded harder and deeper, each thrust pushing her small body in the bed. His hand hurt from her bite as she tried to keep silent.
He pulled out and went for her ass. “Relax. And open a bit more,” he said again. She obeyed. And he forced his hard cock in her tight asshole. It was her first time. She almost screamed, as pain took over her. She contracted her muscles instead of relaxing. He was hurting himself now. She tried to stand up. He pinned her down instead and pushed again and again, slowly.
She felt tears gathering in her eyes from the intense pain. “No, no, please… Please take it out. Take it out.” Her hands tried to push him away but he seized them and locked her in the small of her back. “Shhh… Relax, don’t tense. It will pass in a second.” He wiped her tears.
He paused for almost a full minute then pushed again. “Does it still hurt?” She shook her head “no”. He fucked her ass hard, taking small slow breaks not to ruin the fun before any of them would want to. His fingers went front, to her clit. She had raised her ass higher in delight. She came violently twice. She shook in his arms and he went on fucking her until he saw her exhausted and felt himself hurting. His sperm filled her up. He left himself fall on her, breathing hard. She turned her head around again and he kissed her. He had no idea what the heck was going to happen to the two of them from now on.
