Thor'sday Night - Paranormal Erotica

by Maria Isabel Pita

  ‘Good evening.’ Jay returns her smile with a rare one of his own. ‘We’d like some sake to start with, please.’

  ‘Most certainly, sir.’

  When the porcelain decanter arrives a moment later, he fills both small white glasses to the brim. ‘To us, Carmen.’ He downs the rice wine, and she follows his example. ‘It’s nice and warm,’ he comments in an undertone, pouring them both more, ‘but nothing compared to you.’

  ‘Jay, I hope you don’t think…’

  ‘I’m usually not so hasty myself, Carmen.’

  She asks softly, ‘Why were you this time?’

  His right hand reaches under the table and squeezes her left thigh.

  She has to close her eyes to keep from crying out.

  ‘Because, you bring out the devil in me, baby.’

  She opens the menu, and forces herself to study the selection.

  Italic cursive describes exotically matched ingredients not entirely to her taste, but at the moment she could not care less. She is too consumed with the memory of that brief, yet utterly fulfilling experience, in her bedroom. Somehow it bore no resemblance to the ‘fast-food’ sex she has so often endured, and which always leaves her feeling sick at heart. She hardly knows him, yet already he has taught her some serious things about her sensual palate.

  Their waitress falls gracefully to her knees beside him again. ‘Would you like order now?’ She asks happily.

  ‘Carmen?’

  ‘Um, I’ll have the shellfish pasta, not too hot, please.’

  Jay hands back the menus. ‘I’ll have the beef teriyaki, very hot, and more sake. Just keep it coming.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’

  ‘You don’t like spicy food, Carmen?’

  ‘Not really.’ Profoundly conscious of his hand coming to rest on her thigh again under cover of the table, she studies the light blue pattern of vines decorating the porcelain carafe.

  ‘What do you like?’

  She glances self-consciously around the room at the other diners. ‘Lot’s of things.’

  ‘Really? I thought you were very particular.’

  She dares to look directly into his eyes. ‘Excuse me, but I thought we were talking about food.’

  ‘I’m curious about your appetite in all its forms, Carmen.’

  She succumbs to an exquisite sense of falling against gravity into his stare, and reaches for her cup to brace herself. ‘I like this stuff.’

  ‘Drink up, tomorrow’s Friday. Unfortunately I have to fly to Washington for the weekend.’

  Her stomach plummets through an invisible hole in the earth. ‘You do?’ The warmth of the sake radiating out from her chest, and the hot memory playing itself out in her mind, had mingled deliciously up until that moment.

  His tone is cool, hard, ‘I don’t want to, but my father’s dying.’

  ‘God, I’m sorry.’ The truth is, she is more sorry for herself.

  He doesn’t look at her as he pours them both more wine. ‘I have to see him, try to patch things up with him before it’s too late.’

  The mysterious graph of his profile seems to fill all the spaces of her consciousness. It leaves her speechless with contentment; yet also desperate never to feel those empty spaces inside her again, what she is fast realizing was the inexpressible void of his absence. ‘Why is it that no one I know seems to have a good relationship with their father?’ She covers up her real feelings with this question.

  ‘Because, generally speaking,’ he downs another full glass of the fermented grain, ‘men tend to be more selfish than women. Our mothers really care about us as a special part of themselves. To our fathers we’re often just an abstract burden.’

  ‘Why don’t you and your father get along, Jay?’

  ‘Let’s just say we don’t share similar interests.’

  ‘What sort of things are you interested in?’ She returns to the only subject that interests her at the moment.

  ‘Besides fucking you to death? Not much. You could say I’m obsessed with the subject.’

  She frowns. ‘Does that mean you get a lot of practice?’

  He laughs. ‘On the contrary, Carmen,’ he removes his hand from her thigh and picks up his napkin, ‘when you’re so intense about something,’ he unwraps his silverware slowly, as though undressing it, ‘you’re never easily satisfied.’

  His response is so perfect that for a magical instant it lightens the weight of the earth’s gravity on her bones.

  ‘You see, Carmen,’ he spreads the dark red napkin across his lap, ‘it’s my theory that sexuality is a force humanity hasn’t even begun to understand yet. Take, for example, the marriage of sex and violence in contemporary films. I believe it is a primitive, subconscious way of grasping sexuality’s metaphysical motive.’ He looks at her. ‘You know, orgasm as the soul’s release from the body at the moment of death, and a woman’s womb as the earth in which a man’s spirit is buried even as he rises.’ He reaches for the sake as he adds casually, ‘I’m into Bondage and Domination, Carmen.’

  A young man dressed entirely in white places a large silver chalice of steaming rice on the table before them.

  Jay reaches for her napkin, let’s the silverware tumble out of it, and snaps it open across her lap. ‘Do you know what I’m talking about, Carmen?’

  She stares fixedly down at her fork and knife. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘I’m not talking about anything really distasteful,’ he caresses her long hair reassuringly, ‘so don’t worry.’

  ‘That’s nice to know!’

  ‘I’m flying back late Sunday night.’ Changing the subject, he kisses her cheek like a grown man comforting a wary child. ‘Shall I wake you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Even if it’s as late as two o’clock in the morning?’

  ‘I don’t care what time it is.’

  ‘But you might not hear my knock with the air conditioner going full blast, and four cats purring around you,’ he teases.

  ‘I’ll give you a key.’ She takes the problem seriously. ‘I have an extra one at home.’

  ‘All right,’ he caresses her hair again complacently, ‘I’ll let myself in.’

  Their dinner arrives, and they eat for a while in silence.

  Carmen scarcely tastes her food as she mulls over what he said. Bondage and Domination. The term seems a natural, inevitable part of the meal’s exotic seasonings, a spice she is afraid might prove too pungent for her, that might burn not just her tongue but her whole body. Part of her is relieved now that he is going away for a couple of days; it will give her time to think. Yet a more honest part of her knows perfectly well there is nothing to think about. She obeyed him once already, and how much she enjoyed the result is going to make it impossible for her to resist whatever else he has in mind. She understands now that was only an appetizer, his way of giving her a taste of what was to come to see how she liked it.

  ‘Talk to me, Carmen.’

  ‘This is delicious.’

  ‘You haven’t even tasted your food. You’re too busy thinking about what I said.’ He cleans his plate, dabs his lips with the napkin, and flings it onto the table. ‘Aren’t you?’ His stare captures hers with its intense gravity again.

  ‘Naturally I am. You can’t say something like that and just leave me hanging.’

  ‘I can’t?’ He smiles. ‘And why is that?’

  ‘Because, you just can’t.’

  His right hand finds her thigh again. ‘I can do whatever I please, Carmen.’

  This time she is ready for the breathtaking pain of his fingers seeming to reach for her bone.

  ‘Say it,’ he whispers.

  ‘You can do whatever you please.’ There doesn’t seem any point in denying the truth, much as it might worry her.

  His thumb lightly strokes her throbbing skin. ‘Don’t be afraid, baby, it’s what you want.’

  Her tone is soft, submissive, ‘Don’t be afraid of what, Jay?’

  Once more he re
moves the warm, steadying weight of his hand from her thigh to pour them both some more sake. ‘How long have you been working for Mike Peterson?’

  ‘Almost a year. Why do you ask? And what was your meeting with Mike about, anyway?’

  ‘Have you ever really thought about the miracle of petroleum, Carmen? We use it to move around in ways no one could have imagined a century ago. We use its derivatives to manufacture machines, fertilizers, plastic, paints, clothing, and the list goes on. And, of course, we use it to generate electricity. Modern cities are the direct result of ample supplies of petroleum.’ He glances around at the restaurant’s false oriental luxury. ‘Life as we know it is made possible by the decomposition of marine organisms that lived in the sea millions of years ago.’

  ‘Then you can’t really say modern civilization isn’t organic, can you, since it depends on this rich organic deposit, another name for which is fossil fuel, right?’ She is possessed by an irresistible desire to argue with him. ‘I mean, all of a sudden there’s an explosion of life in the ocean, which is where humanity has its origins, and all these tiny organisms merged with sand and silt after they died to form this black magic called petroleum. It’s like an inheritance we left ourselves in some mysterious way.’

  ‘I was right,’ he says to himself.

  ‘Right about what?’

  ‘I was right about you, Carmen; you’re beautiful all the way through.’

  To avoid the cool gray shackles of his eyes on her pulse, she picks her fork up again and shyly bats a shrimp around her plate.

  ‘But unfortunately,’ he goes on, ‘humanity is squandering this mysterious inheritance, as you call it.’

  ‘There’s always the sun, Jay,’ she refuses to be drawn into a depressing environmental discussion, ‘that big golden coin worth the whole world.’

  ‘Solar energy isn’t the answer to everything. You don’t want children, do you?’

  ‘Not anytime soon.’ Her eyes glance off his. ‘I’m too selfish. I want to experience everything I can myself first. You don’t want children, do you?’ she asks belatedly.

  ‘Not any time soon,’ he echoes, ‘if ever. We’re very much alike, you and I. I knew it the moment I saw you.’ He makes the romantic declaration sound like a hard fact.

  ‘I felt the same way,’ she focuses on the spiraling maze of noodles on her plate, ‘otherwise I never would have let you…’

  ‘Stop feeling guilty about it.’

  ‘I don’t believe in guilt.’

  ‘You don’t believe in guilt?’

  ‘No, it strikes me as a very lame sort of hypocrisy. If you do something it’s because you want to, so what’s the use whining about it afterward?’

  ‘That’s deliciously inflexible of you, Carmen. Were you actually born in Cuba?’

  ‘No, my mother and her family had already been here for a few years.’

  ‘You’re beautiful. What the hell are you doing working as a secretary?’

  ‘A degree in history doesn’t mean much in the job market, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk like my parents.’

  ‘It just seems a waste, that’s all.’

  ‘How did you end up as an enforcement agent for D.E.R.M?’

  ‘It’s a long story. You never wanted to be a model?’

  ‘I’m not tall enough,’ she answers before she realizes he is teasing her.

  ‘How old did you say you were?’

  ‘I didn’t, but if you must know, I’m twenty-seven.’

  ‘God, you’re still a baby.’ He motions for the waitress, who promptly falls to her knees beside him.

  ‘We’d like the check, please.’

  Jay drives her home, and walks her up to her door.

  ‘Would you like to come in?’ She tries to hide how much she wants him to. It worries her that his car keys are still in his hand.

  ‘I’d like to, but I can’t. My plane leaves at seven in the morning, and if I stay we’ll be up half the night.’

  She is speechless with disappointment, but forces herself to say, ‘I understand.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’

  His condescending smile infuriates her. ‘No, you’re right, I don’t.’

  He slaps her. ‘Never use that tone with me again.’

  She stares up at the deep shadows of his features, speechless.

  He asks in that dangerously quiet way of his, ‘Did you like that?’

  She is too confused to admit it, yet her passive silence is answer enough.

  He slips his keys into the right pocket of his black trousers. ‘I guess I can stay for a while.’ He takes her keys from her, unlocks the door, and shoves her gently into the apartment.

  She reaches down to turn on a lamp.

  He closes the door behind him. ‘No, leave it dark.’ He tosses her keys onto the glass coffee table.

  The nerve-shattering clatter makes her fear for the glass. She worries it might have cracked, but there isn’t enough light to see. When she looks at him again he is opening his pants.

  ‘On your knees, baby.’

  She hesitates, because she has never truly enjoyed going down on a man before.

  He slaps her again.

  She sinks to her knees, because for some reason she is more than willing to take his cock into her mouth now.

  He smooths her hair away from her face with both hands, then pulls his partially erect penis out through a convenient opening in his black underwear.

  It confuses her a little how much she loves the fact that he doesn’t undress, that all she can see of him are his hands and his dick as he slips it between her lips.

  ‘You have a small mouth, baby, so open wide. I want you to take all of it.’

  The way he talks to her, his complete command of himself and of the situation, makes him taste different from other men; mysteriously special. She reaches up to brace herself on his thighs, and the slick, expensive feel of his slacks matches the silky smoothness of his erection.

  His hands rest lightly but firmly on her head as he swells against her tongue, until she is afraid she is going to choke as he gets bigger and harder and his helmet fills the highly sensitive space at the back of her mouth. Then he starts easing his hips back and forth and she closes her eyes, desperately controlling her gag reflex. Her throat has never been caressed like this before. She has to keep fighting the urge to try and push him away, even as a part of her she never would have dreamed existed enjoys the strenuous exercise. She feels proud of herself every time his whole penis disappears into her mouth, and hopes that his pleasure at least comes close to the level of her discomfort, because she wants to please him – really please him.

  ‘Mm, that’s nice…’

  She moans, intensely grateful for his praise. It seems like a miracle that she is happily losing herself in the arduous task of sucking a man down instead of just going through the motions as she always has before.

  ‘You realize what’s going on here, don’t you, Carmen? No, I don’t expect you to say anything, just keep sucking my dick. That’s the only answer I need, or expect, from you right now. What’s happening here, baby, is that you’re in training. Your response to everything I’ve done to you so far has been very intense, and I’m very pleased. You’re a smart girl, so I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that I affect you in a way you’ve never experienced before. You don’t know why; so let me tell you why. You’re going to be my slave, Carmen. You’re going to serve me as I will, in any way I will. You’re going to be totally willing to submit to me no matter what I tell you to do. Mentally, you’re not ready to face it yet, but your body’s already delivered the verdict. You want me to be your Master, Carmen.’ He pulls out of her mouth. ‘Get up and turn around.’

  When she experiences regret at having to stop sucking his cock, her confusion climaxes and floods her body with a desire that makes her feel strangely weak.

  He shoves her down across one of the arms of her couch, lifts her dress and yanks her panties down to her a
nkles.

  The hard round cushion digs into her belly as he gently kicks both her feet out from under her, so she can’t brace herself on the floor and push herself up. Then she feels what he intends to do and cries, ‘No!’

  ‘No?’ He slips a finger into her wet pussy and twirls it around like a diver testing the water. ‘Did you say no?’ He almost sounds amused.

  ‘Oh, yes… I mean, no, please!’

  ‘It’s like losing your virginity, baby; it only hurts the first time.’

  ‘No, don’t, don’t!’

  He spanks her with a painfully hard hand. ‘Relax.’

  ‘I can’t!’

  ‘Yes, you can, because I’m telling you to. Understand?’

  ‘No,’ she moans, then gasps, ‘yes,’ when he spanks her again. She feels him move in tightly against her, and closes her eyes in terror as he separates the cheeks of her backside. Then she nearly screams when he parks his thick helmet in her tight little hole, because there is no way she can take all of him. ‘Please, don’t,’ she whispers, ‘please, I’m scared, Jay…’

  ‘Don’t be. Trust me.’

  ‘But it’s going to hurt!’

  ‘Yes…’

  The experience of his erection filling her ass overflows the boundaries of her comprehension it is so extreme in every sense. She is so involved in the violation of her self-image feeling the dirtiest part of her opening up to him that she is barely conscious of her cries. And the anguish isn’t just physical, it also hurts her feelings that he is doing this to her. Then his voice gives her something to focus on besides the blinding pain.

  ‘Mm, that’s it, baby, just relax…’

  Holding on to his encouragement, she senses a dark current of pleasure flowing just beneath the glaring torment. She makes an effort to obey him, and allows herself the overwhelming satisfaction of knowing that she can take him this way, because despite the burning discomfort she can’t help but love how wonderfully full of him she feels.

  He begins easing his hips back and forth. ‘Am I the first man to fuck you like this, Carmen?’

  ‘Yes,’ she sobs, because it hurts the most when he is almost all the way out of her.