The Other Girl
I guess I should’ve known how things would end up. I mean really, how thick did I have to be to have missed such an obvious conclusion? Maybe I can change things this time.
Things will be better, I tell myself. I plug my phone into my car stereo and flick my thumb over the playlists I have saved and pick ‘fiesty’. I set my phone into its cradle the first song kicks on. Within seconds I am starting to feel better, like I could kick ass at a moment’s notice. I mean really, my situation in the universe is what I make it to be. Fuck everyone else.
Soon I’m heading into work, where I’m greeted with friendly smiles and cheerful “Good Mornings!” from, what I can tell anyway, are good natured people that will (this part I am certain of) reside in their cubicles for the next nine hours.
I have worked here for a week. I switch jobs a lot; I get bored. Luckily for me I am hirable enough that employers don’t seem to care as much that I don’t stay at places a very long time. It boils down to an intense feeling of something I’m not quite able to define beyond the awareness that I am not willing to settle for “less than”. Less than what I’m not entirely sure of. I just know that if I’m not happy, I want out. If only I possessed this ability to flee and pursue higher standards of living in my relationships, I would probably wouldn’t feel as if I’d set myself back at least five years in my adult life. But, don’t we all.
Work is simple and stress-free, and I drink as much coffee as I like. I dress as I please, and my ink is viewable to others. Challenging, no, but it certainly has its perks. I have never felt more relaxed at the end of a workday. I might stay here awhile.
Day off; it’s Saturday. I don’t sleep in, as much as I might like to. My internal clock is very punctual, and on more of schedule than my conscious self. With nowhere to rush off to, the first order of business is the same as always.
I tend to fixate on the same fantasy for a period of time until it doesn’t provide the same thrill or it takes longer to serve its purpose, and then I’ll think of something else. They’re always perverse enough that I have never shared them with another person except bared down to extreme abbreviation. The flavor of the moment is “Bring your Pet to work day”. It’s quite ribald.
Thirty seconds later I set my toy back in its place hidden in my nightstand and toss back my sheet and blanket. While I decide what to wear I ponder what I am going to do today and also remind myself that it’s been awhile. I quickly head to the shower. Maybe this fantasy is losing its flavor after all.
I love my detachable showerhead. When I discovered the solid jet-stream setting and its effect on my clitoris, I took four showers that day. Now I quickly lathered and rinsed my hair with shampoo, following with an application of conditioner. I then grabbed the showerhead and lowered myself to my knees and closed my eyes.
I grabbed the protruding shower shelf with my left hand while my right worked the piercing stream over my already wet clit, while I thought about how long since I’d been fucked like I deserved it. I quickly flicked the warm stream up over my breasts and over my taught nipples, and the piercing water hurt just enough to provide the accompanying pleasure and I began to fantasize sweetly about who was really providing me this indulgence.
~”On your knees I said,” His face was impassive. I wasn’t sure how serious he was, and whether or not to obey. I looked at him, motionless.
“On. Your. Knees.” He came over to me, grabbed me by my hair and forced me down and my face into the carpet while twisting himself around so he was over me. All so quickly, and I squirmed in reaction to the pain in my head and he forced himself against me, pushing me into the ground, holding me immobile with his body. My hands were pressed against the carpet with my own body and I could not move them; my legs captured beneath his own.
“I told you to listen to me,” he said, tightly. All air of ambiguity was now gone, and part of me wished I had obeyed. The other part of me was thrilled and riveted with anticipation at what would happen next.
He pulled my hair tighter as he pulled up my skirt with his other hand, roughly.
“Is this how you wanted it to be?” I didn’t know how to answer.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He slapped my ass menacingly. “Don’t know that I should give it to you then. Lucky for you I’m going to make sure it will hurt.” I moaned in my eagerness and he pulled my head up slightly as he leaned down to me, pressing himself against in the process.
“And I’m not just saying that,” he said low and throatily, as he thrust himself inside me and I shrieked. Instantly his other hand was on my throat, and my breathing was restricted so that my new few panicked screams came out as pained gasps instead.
He threw himself violently into me and the pain was welcome and hated simultaneously. I wanted it to end, and I wanted more, all in the same frantic stroke.
He slammed into me, over and over, while tilting my head back with his strong hand twined into my hair, his other still firmly grasping my throat, gripping harder and harder.
I might have begged him to stop if I’d had means to do so when suddenly he did, holding himself perfectly still yet sliding himself out of me.
“That wasn’t your punishment.” My heart started racing and he let go of my hair and throat, straightening himself and he said darkly, “Don’t move.” I layed like a crumpled doll on the ground, frozen in anticipation.
He was behind me still, and he gripped my hips and pressed me against his perfectly firm thickness, so wet from me. He pressed it up just slightly, cresting against my tight anus. I turned my face into the ground, burying my face into the sweet, clean fibers beneath me, awaiting what was to come.
He pressed himself into me with one solid motion, and then paused, and I was instantly aware and uniquely aroused at the different sensation of the fullness of him inside my asshole. So full… so deep! He started to pull away… then pushed even deeper in, filling me so sweetly, grabbing my hips tightly and pulling me against him. I gasped in spite of the possible repercussions. I heard something like a slow hiss from him.
He continued slowly, and then quickly picked up the rhythm until he was fucking my ass with abandon and I couldn’t contain the sensation. I was bucking away slightly until he exerted his strength, holding me against him with each thrust, slamming me into him as he slammed into me. The motions were so intense, and I was eventually thrown into the edge of abandon and I cried out as I felt release of the most intense nature, and I felt myself spill out as he continued to drive himself harder and harder into me. He groaned as he did this and I felt myself shudder. Soon he tightened and climaxed himself, throwing himself into me with such force that if I almost fell over on my weakened arms.~
Oh yeah… that did the trick I thought as I tightly gripped the side shelf and shuddered myself, my knees slipping slightly on the soapy surface of the porcelain.
Finally dressed and drinking my second cup of coffee, I was surfing the internet and cursing the slow speed. I had a fast connection typically, so it was naturally annoying when I was limited to feeling like I suddenly had dial-up. Ok it’s not that bad, I reminded myself as I waited for another I clicked pointlessly and waited for the page to load.
Sometimes refreshing my connection helped so once again I attempted this. I consider myself a typically techno-savvy person with no special geek-tastic abilities. But even I could tell something was up when I (in my annoyance) clicked too many times and opened up to find what appeared to be someone wirelessly picking up my internet signal. I might not think this all that odd, but I could swear that I’ve seen that same ID picking my internet up before.
I really don’t know enough about this type of thing to get the full implication of this, but I don’t understand what it could actually mean. I’m pretty certain that WI-FI is limited to ranges, and that my router’s well, sucks. And I have exactly one neighbor that lives what you could call “close”, and he’s almost a block away from me. Odd. I shrug it off and head to the shed to grab my gear. I’ve decided to go to one of my favorite places today for a much put-off wilderness retreat.
Camp! Unpacked and set up – I’ve got a backpack with the necessities (including beer and music of course): it’s time to go exploring. This place is one of my favorite places to go hiking, but this is the first time I’ve decided to camp here. A: because it’s technically illegal. The main area is a government protected area you’re free to visit and explore, but they make it so easy to venture outside of that, why wouldn’t you? B: Well, mainly the illegal thing I guess. Ok maybe I was a little chicken shit, especially to do it alone. The area is rumored to be haunted, but I’ve been here several times and never seen a thing before.
This is exactly what I need, I thought, as I climbed over section of fence and headed for another section of cliff. To get away from the usual, and outside of myself. When I reach the cliff face I stop and take in the view. I just breathe, and admire the unbelievable amount I can actually see from up here. I decide here’s a good place to stop for a minute, so I sit, take a beer out of my pack and slip on my headphones. I thumb over my playlists while I appreciate how amazing it smells and feels here. I finally land on ‘running’, the list I created for when I obviously, go for a run.
I sip my beer, and then set it down and lean back, using my pack as a pillow and fold my hands on my chest and close my eyes and feel… serene.
A few songs later I feel the oddest feeling, and I crack an eye open. Someone is standing there, behind me, but only a foot or so away, shadowed by the dropping sun. I’m not worried; I’ve met people in the main area of this place before, and it doesn’t strike me as odd that other people explore the surrounding area like I do. I am slightly worried however that this might be someone come to kick me out I start to realize. I’d realized this could happen. Oops.
I slide off my headphones, planning to keep my cool, and claim the tent, if they’ve seen it, is not mine.
“Yeah um… hi?” I say, in what I think is a casual voice, raising a hand to shield my eyes in an attempt to get a clearer look at the stranger.
The person stands still a moment, clearly looking at me, and says nothing for a moment.
“I noticed the title of your playlist,” he said in clear, masculine voice, still not moving.
“Oh, um, yeah?” I said, trying to think what the hell he meant by that. He liked or disliked my taste in music?
“Yes. Just how appropriate it was.” He stopped, as if waiting for the implication of his words to have meaning to me. I just stared as his tall figured, now more visible from my adjusting sight. He was tallish, around six feet guessing from my awkward angle, and wearing normal enough clothing, very appropriate for the season. I couldn’t make out his features too well, but he wasn’t familiar, but he seemed about thirty, maybe a little older and had short dark hair.
“Claire.” He said, and I saw his lips spread into a sort of smile. I immediately froze. He knew my name.