Another's Eyes

by Mariska Hutchence

  Her lips freeze up, leaving me kissing air as her breath becomes labored. She’s not moaning, but I can feel her body pulsing against my penetration, hotly and urgently. In the still of the room, I feel her cunt tighten forcefully, threatening to cut the circulation off in my fingers, pulsing as the wetness there grows more and more prominent. It goes on and on and finally I’m staring into those green eyes, showing her the first of all the things I want to make right in her life…until the light goes out.

  The tears well up almost immediately and I’m completely without words for one of the handful of times in my life. She pushes me roughly to the door.

  “Just go, just go, just go.” She pleads. I nod because it’s the only thing I can do at this moment, struggling with my fingers in my shirt pocket, barely able to press the business card into her tender palm before the door closes, shattering my heart.

  5. Emma

  W ashing it away. That’s what I’m doing, I think to myself as the nearly scalding water cascades down my face and between my breasts, running in torrents to the shower floor. I don’t entirely know what just happened, but my heart is racing and every little fear and terror is making an appearance in my overstimulated brain. I finally cut the water off after twenty minutes as the heat is starting to fade. I can feel the pulse still humming between my legs from the first orgasm I’ve had in two years that wasn’t from my own touch.

  I ignore Lolo purring around my feet, wrapping the towel around my still dripping body as I stalk into the entryway. I have to see it again.

  It’s there, sitting next to my keys in the bowl. After closing the door behind him, I’d stood there for at least ten minutes, still breathing heavily as it hung loosely in my hand over the trash can. For the life of me, I couldn’t drop it. It went into the bowl unread as I rushed to the shower.

  Picking it up as if it might burn me, I read the name. Blake Sims, Owner, Property Development Associates. I laugh, and Lolo chirps again. I look down at him. “I know you liked him. I got it.”

  The laugh is from the thought of what I’m going to say to Susan. Hey, well, to satisfy your project, I invited a guy into my house and he fingered me. I’m pretty sure it was five minutes, though, might have been a little less, does that count?

  Lolo obviously doesn’t find it as funny as I do.

  Not only do I not really know what just happened, I don’t know why I practically shoved him out of the door. Blake Sims. It would put a name to the fantasy, at least.

  Keep going, baby. I’m going to make you take it all, you know.

  This time, the flashback did send me to my knees on the floor. It wasn’t the same as the usual ones. This time, no cold, dead eyes. This time, they were his eyes. The realization startles me as much as the flashback floored me. Its’s the first time since my captivity had ended that I have seen any eyes other than those in my mind and I can’t stop the tears from falling.

  It takes me a moment before my shaking fingers can unlock my phone and make the call, but the low ring from the speaker eases my nerves a little.

  “Hello.”

  “Susan?” I say. “I need to talk.”

  There’s some commotion on the other end of the line and it fades, sounding like she’s taking the call to a quieter room for privacy.

  “Are you okay, Emma?”

  I laugh. “I don’t know. That’s your job, right?”

  I can hear that soft, knowing smile in her words. “What happened? Was it the project I gave you?”

  “Oh, you bet.” I say. “Yeah, that was a doozy.”

  “So, tell me about it.” She says, patiently.

  Suddenly, I realize that either I don’t know what I want to say, or I simply just don’t want to say it. Funny how you can’t tell the difference sometimes. More images flood into my brain. They start out with the gentle kiss, that first tender touch, then move to the more intense moments towards the end. I feel a shudder running through me at the memory.

  “Emma?”

  “I’ll call you back.” I say, disconnecting the call.

  My hand finds the center of me almost immediately, urgently, as the images change course. His rough hands are all over me, forcing me down on my back on the floor, those gorgeous blue eyes sending almost as much pleasure through me as his cock as it pushes inside of me.

  The floor is cold and hard on my back as I squeeze my legs together, trapping my hand in place as the orgasm ends; its beauty as temporary as a butterfly alighting on a finger. The tears start to flow again as it dawns on me why I forced my surprise lover out of the door.

  His gentleness seemed so…wrong.

  6. Blake

  A lmost cracking the rim of the crystal tumbler, I manage to get the majority of the bourbon into it from the decanter, my hands still shaking. The feeling of a sudden windfall being granted, then snatched back is all over me and I can’t shake it. She should be here with me right now, enjoying the night breeze blowing across the deck, but she isn’t. I blew it by not being able to control myself. I was too rough, too bold; the accusations come one after another as I take a long draw at my drink.

  The drink next to my lips brings the familiar scent of alcohol, but another is there as well. I swap it into my other hand, drawing the scent deep into my nostrils. Her scent. It’s musky and I can feel the stirring in my pants almost immediately. It only serves to steel my resolve. I have to have her. It’s not going to pass and I know it.

  Sitting in the deck chair, alone in the big house is a burden. It always has been. At twenty-eight, I’ve already put all of my high school tormentors to shame with my success, but this feeling is nothing but emptiness. The string of empty affairs over the years plays back in my memory, which isn’t common for me. Hell, I pretty much gave up on all of that years ago to focus on the business that has brought me so much…and so little, depending on the way I look at it.

  Cars, the plane, the houses. None of it really seems to matter much anymore. Maybe I’m finally growing up, if that makes any sense. Emma’s face plays in my mind. Not the oddly-smiling and questioning face in the doorway…the face of her passion; the passion that passed so quickly between us before it flared out. I shift my weight in the chair, still nursing the drink as I think about her, only able to imagine the body that lies beneath her frumpy clothes. It’s hard to blame her, though, after what happened. I’d probably want to hide myself away too, not wanting anyone to find me.

  Thinking of her brings on the fantasies, something else I haven’t indulged in for years, other than the fantasy of finally having her. These are sexual, and I can feel the need growing physical against my arm as I hold the drink over my lap. The drink ends up on the table, drops of condensation dripping onto the glass top as I consider succumbing to yet another indulgence. The sound of my zipper going down is drowned out by the constant hum of crickets.

  Eyes closed, I’m picturing hers, trying to push away the memory of her tears. I hope to never see them again. Slowly stroking myself, as if having to re-learn the techniques of my younger years, I visualize that first kiss and the heat and grip of her body on my fingers…

  The phone vibrates, almost clattering on the glass tabletop, breaking my reverie. “Fuck.” I murmur under my breath, turning it over with the fingers of my free hand. Just a text, as it hasn’t buzzed again. I don’t even have to unlock it to read the brief message.

  You’ll have to take me

  The number isn’t one of my contacts, and Ames hadn’t been able to dig up a number for her, so I can’t be sure. What does that mean?

  I abandon my task, knowing full well that I’ll end up returning to it later, unlocking the phone and typing out a message.

  Emma?

  Listening to the crickets and watching the melting ice shift in my drink, I numb for about twenty minutes, my mind hardly turning the pages of my thoughts as I wait for a response that doesn’t seem to be coming. The mindlessness is helping me cope, and at some level I recognize that. Am I just holding onto a life-line
here?

  I look at the screen one more time, not only noting the lateness of the hour, but the absence of notifications as well. I rise up out of the chair, determined to at least be more comfortable if sleep continues to elude me. The bedroom is calling and my mind wanders to what I had been planning to do before the text came in. It happens. This time, the fantasy is more elaborate, my face buried between her legs, the real scent still on my fingers transferring perfectly to add to the imagery in my mind. Surprisingly, I feel myself getting close almost immediately, my body understanding my need more adeptly than my own mind. I reach for the towel almost at the precise moment the phone buzzes again, drawing my eyes like a magnet.

  Yes

  Those green eyes in my mind flood out the word on the lock screen just as I erupt, my throbbing cock shooting again and again up my stomach.

  7. Emma

  H e texted back a few more times, but I wasn’t able to bring myself to answer him. Part of me wanted to; that new part, the part that he seems to have woken with his touch. The old part is having none of it, though. Still, those incredible eyes are in my thoughts and more importantly, in my fantasies.

  Look in my eyes! Over and over he thrusts, the sounds of our bodies slapping together filling the empty room as he takes me. He knows when I’m trying not to focus on them.

  I brush it off almost immediately, bringing on one of the new ones. Salty lips pressing against mine, teeth biting gently but firmly before his tongue goes into my mouth. I smile as I finish dressing, trying to keep Lolo at arms-reach since I’m going out to see Susan.

  Even that thought surprises me. There’s no dread in it. There’s almost a giddiness about it and I feel like a kid for the first time in a long time. It’s been almost ten years since I graduated, but it almost feels like I’m going out to gossip with my best friend, swapping tales of adventures with boys. “I think I’m going to finally find you a friend, Lolo.” I say, finally giving in to his demands and stroking him. “What do you think? Another guy to hang out with, or some cute little Calico?” The chirping meow at the last one makes me laugh out loud.

  I’ve got the door unlocked and I’m turning the handle before I realize my keys are still sitting in the bowl. As I turn instinctively to grab them, my eyes light on the card. His card. I tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans as the keys jingle in my hand. Out the door, locking it behind me, I finally turn to head out to the driveway, but something catches my eye. It’s a dark SUV, which brings back some bad memories. I turn, wanting to head back into the house, but it’s locked, of course.

  Feeling the presence behind me, I try to turn, but a firm hand between my shoulder blades presses me against the oiled wood. I can smell the pine and the industrial scent, even as I feel the body pressing into mine and the hot breath against my neck.

  “Is this what you wanted, Emma?” The voice says. It’s him. My knees almost buckle, but with his body up against mine, I don’t really need them to support me. The best I can do is go with my gut, which terrifies and excites me all at the same time.

  Wordlessly, I nod and I immediately feel his lips hot on the nape of my neck, making all the tiny hairs stand at attention. Goosebumps flutter down my back as the chill hits me, all sensations converging at that wakening core between my legs. I can feel the wetness building down there as I tremble under those hungry lips. Even facing the door as I am, I can see the intensity in those eyes. Another’s eyes. I raise my hand up, working it between our two bodies behind my back, feeling his abs pulsing in his own excitement. It only takes a moment before I feel his rough grip on my wrist and he pulls me away from the door.

  Somehow, for some reason, I trust him. The conflict of that is obvious even to my own mind, as he walks me down to the edge of the street. The trust is due to the gentleness of his touch; the very same gentleness that had for some reason caused me to push him away the other night. Crazy, and I know it. The flashbacks are coming on strong as he pushes me through the open door of the back seat but I’m embracing them for the first time. If everything has a light and a dark side, the dark side of them were those cold eyes; the light side the pleasure that I could do nothing to stop. I feel the hot leather and look up, catching one glimpse before the door closes, the black tint blocking off all else. His eyes. They wash away the others.

  Blake doesn’t speak throughout the drive and I’m basically unable to. The trembling of my body hasn’t stopped, but I don’t see it as a bad thing, and even that is confusing. It’s exciting, even thrilling, and the maelstrom of thoughts keeps me bottled up inside until I feel the car slowing to a stop, then pulling forward a little more after a short pause. I can hear an electric whir somewhere outside.

  “Close your eyes.” He says from the front seat. I finally dare to look up, but unfortunately those eyes aren’t in the rear-view mirror. Licking my drying lips, I do what he’s asked.

  I hear his door slam, then mine opening, feeling his hand on my arm as he urges me out of the car. I know I can open my eyes, but I’m not going to. He’s giving me exactly what I asked for, as twisted and disturbed as that might be. I didn’t start out like this. Not at all. The first few months were a living hell, but something changed inside of me. I know some women have fantasies like this, but they’re not real; they’re just that. Fantasies. Maybe it was a coping mechanism; I simply don’t know, but the thrill I’m feeling as he leads me through the unknown house is exhilarating. Susan wouldn’t understand. Nobody understands.

  He’s backing me up now, pushing me along and I’m still not opening my eyes. I want to look at him, but I’m not going to break. I’m not going to break. Those words, even as thoughts, cause me to pause.

  I’m going to break you. You will love me.

  The back of my knees hit something and I fall backwards, feeling weightless for a moment before falling flat, my body bathed in softness. I feel the tug at my sneakers, first one, then the other. The same repeats with my socks. He’s not speaking, and that’s probably for the best. I feel the ripples of excitement. I just want to see those eyes, but I’m not going to break.

  It’s awkward, but after several tugs and movements of those strong hands, the jeans slip off over my feet, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. Blake’s mouth is on my ankle but those hot lips quickly travel to the back of my knee, his fingers squeezing my flesh tightly. At this point, my body is way past the point of no return, and the hint of an orgasm buzzes inside of me, just as I feel those rough kisses on the inside of my thigh. I hear something that I don’t recognize, but it only distracts me for a moment before I feel his fingers up under the fabric of my panties. They brush my lips for a moment as he pulls them aside, then he’s on me.

  I cum almost immediately, feeling like I’m gushing in his mouth as he buries his face between my legs like a predator on his prey, his tongue sliding into me as his hands press my knees up and back, spreading me open for his touch. The sound is back as I struggle to arch my hips up, wanting him deeper inside, aching for more as he probes me, tastes me. I’m not certain if I’m having another orgasm or if the first one never stopped, the pleasure is so deep and so fulfilling. What I am certain of, finally, is where the unfamiliar sound is coming from. I purse my lips and it stops, for just a moment, my breath and that keening moan emerging again as his tongue tears roughly at my clit. I feel the bedspread bunching in my fingers, gripping it like I’m preventing myself from soaring into the air from the intensity.

  8. Blake

  E mma’s body is everything I ever imagined, though the events that are unfolding are nothing of the sort. It’s against everything I stand for; everything I’d dreamed of being able to provide for her; safety, security, a tender and loving hand, but I’m powerless to stop the train that’s been set in motion by my hunger for her. Two years of brooding unhappiness are washing away, the taste of her ambrosia on my lips. Her body responds to mine like the gas pedal of muscle car, accelerating wildly with the slightest touch.

  Two fingers slide de
ep into her, almost sucked into that body as I work her clit with my tongue, driving her to orgasm. The tight heat of it clamps down on my fingers and sends me to new heights. I have to have her. Coming to my feet hastily, I catch my balance on the edge of the bed. Her legs are still spread in the position I left it and I can hardly get my pants off fast enough. One shoe gives me trouble and I say the hell with it, leaving my pants there around one ankle as I drag her to the edge of the bed. Those beautiful eyes are still closed, but the mask of pleasure on her face is beyond imaginable, a beauty so crisp and priceless that it can’t be described with words.

  She moans as I roughly push inside of her, my long-neglected cock humming and already threatening to erupt, but there’s no stopping me now. The groan that comes from those beautiful lips almost derails me, but the expression doesn’t change. Her hand finds my hip, pulling me forward, encouraging and sinking me deeper. Her tight cunt is gripping me intensely, yet still allowing me inside, and I barely finish sliding into that amazing sheath before I start pulsing inside, pumping over and over again into her body. At the first crushing blow, I see those two amazing green fields staring up at me.

  “Emma.”

  Her body is milking me, rippling along my shaft as I finish, our eyes locked together.