I feel drugged, as if I had been pumped full of morphine because some doctors had to open me up and rummage around my insides. I’ve ridden the high until its waves placed me gently on wet sand, and it takes me blinking a few times for my sight to clear up.
The night has fallen on this late October afternoon. We are bathed by the pair of ring lights mounted on tripods at the foot of the bed. Some moonlight also pours into the bedroom; the balcony of Jacqueline’s apartment on the hills offers a distant view of Mount Igueldo but no nearby homes, so we didn’t need to lower the blinds to make love. Our bodies are tangled together in sweat and sticky fluids, like a couple of teenagers after their first tryst. The rhythm of my heartbeats, that vibrate through my ribcage, quickly matched Jacqueline’s. My head is pillowed against her breasts, and my breath moistens the silky skin near her left areola as I listen to the sounds inside my beloved while she herself inhales and exhales deeply.
How could such pleasure have flowed through my rotten veins? My blood had been replaced with liquid fire, and my muscles with a vibrating mass of solid energy. No amount of self-diddling, no matter how dedicated, could have brought the visions of such a paradise as the one I witnessed thanks to Jacqueline’s tongue.
Her fingers weave into my hair, which makes me shiver against her body.
“I thought you had passed out or fallen asleep, baby,” she purrs in a low voice. “I’ll have to get up and pee in a short while.”
“I am dazed, lost in a warm dream,” I mumble as my lips move against the skin of her breast.
She chuckles quietly.
“I’m glad. I came real good too, baby.”
“I wish my entire life was reduced to cumming and sleeping. We’d fuck over and over until I passed out from exhaustion, then I’d sleep until my body woke up by itself. The process would repeat indefinitely. However, I’d have to fuel this decaying frame with nutrients, and eventually expel the nasty by-products of metabolism. We’d also need a roof over our heads to avoid the rain and such nonsense. When you think about it, everything that keeps us busy in these wretched lives of ours are just convoluted ways of securing the next orgasm, as well as the next eight or so hours of unconsciousness.”
“I assume that our bodies in this lovely dream of yours would never age or become sick,” Jacqueline says softly. “They would always stay fresh, young and strong. They would always be beautiful.”
I chuckle bitterly.
“It is all too easy for me to envision a world where sex rules supreme. No one needs money, or food, or any kind of material thing for basic survival; those simply do not exist because people want nothing except for their partners’ company. But dreams only take us so far because reality is harsh on our fleshly shells. After all, aging is a curse. No wonder that humans are so fucked up, when we know that we’ll grow old and die. It’s kind of nuts that our bodies are just outer layers that will eventually disintegrate into nothingness. Imagine: if the body were made out of steel instead of organic tissue, there’d be no such things as cancer, heart attacks or even the common cold. Anyway, over the years I’ve thought of so many things to do, but there is no point in putting much effort when I’m just going to end up a bloated corpse.”
“You’re much younger than me, baby. You look like you have all the energy in the world.”
“You must be joking. I am the walking dead. I’m a vampire that was created in a laboratory to serve a dark god. Most of the time I lack the strength to carry on a conversation, let alone do anything productive. My mind can’t focus on a single thing for more than half an hour before it becomes a muddle again.”
“But you were in such high spirits a moment ago.”
To apologize, I reluctantly lift my face from her warm breast, which is coated with a sheen of dried saliva, but a close-up of my beloved silences me. Jacqueline’s lustrous, raven black hair has fanned across the pillow like an aura of smoke around her head. In her beautiful face, those cobalt blues glow with a loving light, like an angel’s eyes. Her lips, puffy and rosy, part in a confident smile that shows her white teeth and deepens her dimples. The soft light from the two ring lamps makes her look ethereal.
A hot, tingly feeling grows between my thighs and my belly.
“I swear, I can barely look at you without wanting to touch myself,” I say hoarsely.
“What a sweet compliment.”
Her hands squeeze my hips. She runs the tip of her tongue along the edge of my mouth, until I have enough and I capture her tongue between my lips.
Jacqueline understands my suffering, and what’s like to exist as an unrepentant pervert. My entire universe has been reduced to her: a blue, cozy cave in the center of the desolate cosmos. A storm surrounds me, but I’m wrapped up inside a thick blanket. One day the storm will pass and the sun will come out again to shine upon our faces as we sit beneath its rays. I will gaze upon a clear sky except for a few white cumulus clouds drifting lazily across an azure background.
In Jacqueline’s caresses I become a child again. I feel safe cradled in her embrace, I yearn for nothing more than to bury myself in her soft flesh. The only things that matter are her warm touch against my skin, her breath on my cheek, the tickling sensation when she strokes my back or chest, the gentle heat from her belly pressing into my own, the softness of her thighs under mine. And even though those feelings are all so small, they can’t be contained by words.
What am I doing here with this woman? Jacqueline should be sitting by a fireplace with a glass of red wine while watching some TV show in the evening, before she had dinner together with her kids at the kitchen table. She should have a husband to kiss goodnight, one that would hold her close and tell her sweet dreams, instead of me.
Jacqueline’s labia are glistening and shimmering in the white light. My hands roam across her skin as if my fingers were petrels gliding across the surface of the ocean. I massage her abdomen, the soft rise from her pelvis to the surroundings of her belly button. My hands travel across her hips until they reach the tuft of dark hair above her crotch. I touch her desperate to prove to myself that she exists, or through that contact, that I’m real myself.
“You claim to be much older than me, but your skin feels so firm,” I say dreamily.
“Turns out I’m a freak of nature. I can’t complain in that regard.”
“Hey, I’m also a freak of nature in many respects!” I say cheerfully as I lift my gaze towards her nostrils. “It’s only natural that we’re drawn together.”
Jacqueline rubs her forehead with the back of a hand.
“But I also fear getting old, you know? I don’t want to end up like some hideous, hag-like monster. I want to look as good as I can for as long as I can, so that I can make the best use of my limited lifespan. If I could have a young and beautiful body forever, I would do whatever it takes to make it so.”
Jacqueline pats my head. When I move my hands to support myself on the mattress, she rolls over to sit at the edge of the bed.
“Anyway, I have to expel a by-product of metabolism.”
Jacqueline sashays away, not that she can help it with those wide hips of hers, presenting her smooth, round buttocks to me. A wave of lustful desire floods my body. I need to bury my face between those cheeks, suck on Jacqueline’s fleshy ass, lick the crevices of her pussy, and tongue-fuck the whole of her anus. But Jacqueline closes the bedroom door behind her, so I suspect that she’ll get busy with more than number one.
Once my heartbeat dies down, I stretch out my arms and legs and yawn. The bed is rumpled where we lay down together, and covered with our scented sweat and sex fluids. It smells divine; even better when I press my nose into the fabric.
The late afternoon has grown cool, so I wrap myself in Jacqueline’s bedsheets and lean back against the fluffy pillows to wait for my beloved to finish up. It feels as though the temperature outside dropped ten degrees while we were in here fucking each other like animals.
Peeking from behind the ring lights, the black lenses of both cameras that are pointing at the bed look dead, except for the conspicuous red lights that clarify that they keep paying attention to me. I hope they got my performance down to a fine art.
Out the balcony door, the distant hills of Mount Igueldo are dotted with glowing windows; most of those who are rich enough to own luxurious homes there won’t go to sleep yet. The spiky leaves of a potted plant perched on top of the balcony parapet sway in the silent breeze.
I close my eyes and repeat the word ‘Jacqueline’ over and over in my head, trying to conjure her up. I wish to stay here forever with this woman, with the darkness of this late October afternoon, and with the stars.
Perhaps Jacqueline just wants me to fulfill her sexual needs; I would never turn her down. Perhaps those plans involve keeping me around indefinitely as her slave. I’m not the type of person anyone should bring to a relationship. I have an entire collection of mental disorders and perverse fetishes. I’m a coward, a whore, an addict. The biggest waste of space on this planet. I’m so depraved that I’ve come to look forward to the suffering and the misery. I don’t care about this world and I don’t care about its people. I’m not even human anymore. Surely that warrants Jacqueline clasping a collar around my neck and chaining me to her bed. All I’d have to do every day is wait naked for my woman to return home so I could finally lap at her warm insides and slurp her nectar. All sounds would be reduced to the gentle squeaking of Jacqueline’s bed, the moans of ecstatic pleasure, and the wet sloshing of her pussy against my mouth as she quenched my thirst. No more guilt, no more fear. No more feeling the weight of the world. No more fighting the darkness inside myself. Just Jacqueline.
A burst of tingles in my crotch makes me slide my hand past my pubes for a quick rub, while my other hand goes for a languorous caress of my nipples. With my eyes closed and myself lost in a dreamy reverie, I barely notice the bedroom door opening. Jacqueline steps in as she strokes her naked arms.
“It’s way too chilly to walk around the apartment butt naked. I thought I had left a window open somewhere.”
She tiptoes to the mirrored wardrobe, slides the door open and grabs a violet garment, so silky that the electromagnetic radiation from the ring lights glides across its surface as if it were water.
“Is this a shirt or a nightie?” she asks me over her shoulder with an amused expression on her face.
“I guess it depends on the context.”
Jacqueline attires herself in the garment: a negligée that barely begins to cover her firm thighs, with a baby pink motif like a band of flowers over the chest. The thin straps seem ill-suited to contain her massive, milky white twin wonders.
I gulp at her majesty. Along with the gentle sway of her hips, her long legs and her raven black hair cascading over her bare shoulders, Jacqueline makes the perfect image of a seductive femme fatale. My heart rate goes haywire when she stands before me in all her glory.
Once I lift my gaze to Jacqueline’s blues, she approves my reaction with a cocky smirk.
“The thin layer of silk hugs my tits making them look even bigger, don’t you think?”
I keep staring at her breasts as they jiggle ever so slightly under their weight. Her nipples are visible through the negligée like tiny bumps on an otherwise smooth surface, tempting me to run my tongue over those tender peaks.
“Anyway, there you are, little devil,” Jacqueline coos. “You look so cozy. Leave me some room by your side, will you?”
I slide my ass down the mattress so my head rests on the pillow, and I pull away the bedsheets. However, as Jacqueline climbs onto the bed, she turns her head towards the ring lights.
“Oh, I left the cameras running again.”
She walks over to fiddle with them. I close my eyes and let my head sink into the soft pillow. A few seconds later, artificial light ceases to filter through my eyelids, and I return to the darkness and silence of my own mind.
Jacqueline creeps under the bedding and snuggles up to me. Her breasts rub against mine as she licks my earhole, which makes me tremble from head to toe.
“Did you miss me lots?” she whispers in my ear.
My hand slides down to the hem of her negligée, and I rub the material gently between my fingers.
“You are my heroin. I want to overdose on you and disappear.”
Jacqueline embraces me, squeezing me tight, and nuzzles up against my cheek while her hair tickles my neck.
“I’d be so sad if you were gone,” she says with a heavy sigh. “It’s too soon to let your soul wither away, so stick around for a bit longer.”
Jacqueline’s tits are compressed against my chest, covering the whole surface from my collarbones to the end of the thoracic cage, hindering my breathing somewhat. Her nipples dig into my skin like two hard pebbles.
“Is it too soon, though?” I ask. “I was born with a dried up soul, as if I had opened a carton of milk only to find a black sludge festering inside. I’m a mess in my head and an utter disaster outside of it. A broken, ruined, half-dead beast.”
Jacqueline fake-bites the tip of my nose.
“Hey, don’t you say such nasty things about my girl. I don’t like it one bit, you hear?”
“If you hadn’t been here to protect me, I would have turned into a feral, bitter, heartbroken being who spends all day masturbating. The kind of creature that craves only to be alone in their pain. I wouldn’t be able to even take a shit without some help.”
“Don’t be so mean to yourself. You’re not as bad as you think.”
“I’m probably worse.”
Jacqueline runs her right thumb over my bottom lip, tracing the curve where my lips meet at their center.
“Don’t worry about a thing, and don’t give up hope. You can count on me. I’ll help you find your way back to life. Together we can make the world a better place, make everyone smile and laugh and all that.”
“I’m inclined to believe you at the moment.”
I pet her body under the negligée, running my fingers over her smooth, warm skin, while I listen to the beating of her heart. I’m getting drowsier by the second.
Jacqueline’s breath caresses my lips as her fingertips trace patterns along the small of my back.
“Do you miss the old days,” she whispers, “your childhood, your family?”
“Wh-why would you ask me that all of a sudden?”
“Oh, I was thinking how lucky I am to have a cute girl like you in my arms, and I tried to imagine how you looked back then. So you know, it just popped into my head.”
“When did I have a family? I can’t remember a single moment when I wasn’t alone in the dark.”
“Hey, I did tell you a bit about my family during our date at the pub, didn’t I? That’s a big deal for me.”
Jacqueline shifts her body on top of mine.
“You told me an entertaining lie about your drunkard of a father kidnapping you and your sister, then drunk-driving off a cliff into a lake, where you drowned to death. Afterwards you came up with something about uploading your consciousness into a machine.”
“Well, there you go.”
Jacqueline strokes my cheek, then she turns my head enough to kiss me on the mouth. Her wet tongue caresses mine slowly, lovingly, as her warm saliva, that tastes like mouthwash, mixes with my own. I squeeze my thighs together.
“C’mon, baby,” Jacqueline insists. “Share something truthful about yourself before you fall asleep.”
“I don’t have any family. Besides, I try to avoid thinking about the things that make me who I am. I intend to just exist.”
“No family, huh? Of course. A perfect babe like you sprung out from the ether fully formed.”
I let out a defeated sigh. My body feels heavy.
“Well… My mother’s ashes rest beneath the soil of our family plot in an ancient cemetery.”
“She got cremated, huh?”
“After she found out I got pregnant at sixteen, she went ahead and cremated herself.”
Jacqueline giggles, then she squeezes my butt-cheeks reproachfully.
“You know that you can tell me the truth, open up for real. I’d want someone to talk to. And that someone might as well be me, since I’m your lover and all.”
As her warm fingers caress the curve of my back, white noise burns behind my eyes, a high-pitched whistle. I shut my eyelids tight.
“A part of me wonders if my life would have been better if my father had taken his belt to my ass instead of locking me in the cellar when I was seven years old. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel this way about being trapped inside my own body. I would have been free, I could have learned how to talk to other people and have made some friends, and my ass would have been much, much better by now. My mother died giving birth to me, and even though I loved her dearly, she wasn’t able to protect me against my own dad who would hit me with a wooden spoon for no reason.”
My eyes are still closed, but the noise has worsened. I feel like the entire world is aflame and that I’m the only person in it, a burning soul with a heart full of rage.
“Perhaps in some distant future we will discover how to build an AI capable of understanding human languages,” I continue, “but until then the only option is to remain silent. The world is not kind to those who do not use words well; they will never get what they want out of life, they will always end up having to suffer for their mistakes and make more of them in return. I learned that lesson the hard way when my parents were murdered by a hitman for refusing to pay protection money.”
I sense Jacqueline’s heat, the curve of her cheeks, the softness of her lips, and that moist, dewy, honeyed smell that exudes from her skin.
“You silly, silly child.”
I feel it again, the hole in my heart, so big and deep that the wind can blow right through it. Empty like a hollowed-out log. I sniffle, then bury my face in Jacqueline’s warm neck.
“It was a war zone of tears, fear and anger. A few times I thought I might end up murdering my parents as they screamed at each other over nothing. When no one else was home, I went down into their room and sat on their bed. They used to have a stuffed bear called Pepo, which I would hug until I felt better. Whenever I hugged him, he’d turn into an old man with grey hair who stared at me blankly. Then I’d hold his paws tight while imagining us living together somewhere far away from there.”
Jacqueline strokes my back gently, running her fingers along my spine. The pain begins to recede, though I still feel something missing inside me, a void that cannot be filled. I keep talking.
“And I must have gotten molested, but who hasn’t? I get molested every time I leave the safety of a closed room. So many noises pelting me, so many bright lights plunging themselves into my eyeballs. And yet all this is supposed to help me? The streets have gotten saturated with human beings that insist on discharging disgusting sounds and invading my personal space. Did anyone ask you to bother me, you rotten wretches? Who gave the green light for your own stupidity? Why do you think you are entitled to the effort it takes me to formulate a coherent sentence? I swear, this crumbling world will fall apart one day because people don’t know how to treat each other right; they just scream and shout and make demands without ever listening to what other people might actually say. If I could, I would have turned myself into an ice cube and entered a state of permanent hibernation. I don’t like anything, I don’t see the point, I don’t know where I’m going or why I was born. Consciousness is a maddening nightmare, don’t you think? The only way to survive is by accepting your lot and just existing with a dull and resigned apathy. The truth, Jacqueline, is that I don’t care about the past or the future. All I want to think about is you.”
Her hair brushes over my lips as her tongue licks at my throat, and while she grinds against me, her wetness dabs my thigh in small circles. Jacqueline’s touch brings out a new kind of tension in me. I want her lips around my nipples again, I want her mouth sliding down across my stomach while I moan softly, I want her hands kneading my ass cheeks while I beg for more. I yearn for those sweet words of hers to spill over my body until they soak through my skin and reach the deepest parts of me.
“I hate everyone,” I say in a threadbare voice, “but most especially I hate myself. So let me tell you what I really am: an ugly creature who lives for pleasure, a selfish parasite incapable of love, a weakling full of self-loathing, a disgusting pervert, an empty shell of flesh, an insignificant pile of shit… yet somehow you still like me. That’s the scariest thing of all.”
Jacqueline whispers in my ear.
“Then let’s keep fucking each other silly until we forget everything else.”
I don’t reply; her fingers have found my clit, and they’re circling it as if seeking a way into my mind through my skin.