The Emancipation of Love

by Mary E. Palmerin

  Now, what to do with her…

  I look at her hands, which are turning a lovely shade of red that resembles my favorite color and all things beautiful. Her feet are following closely as she continues to struggle and moan, hogtied on top of my bed.

  “Oh, how lovely this is. Now, what should I do with you, Isabel?”

  “Whatever you want, William,” she immediately returns.

  Again, that pisses me off. I am not turned on sexually in the slightest.

  “Are you always this fucking desperate, Isabel? Who the hell are you? I may be crazy, but I am me. No one else. You, you just want to be someone’s shadow.”

  “Stop it,” she returns, void of emotion.

  I see right through her façade. She has a story. Women like her are too familiar, too predictable, too boring.

  “Ahhh, Isabel, but the fun has merely begun!”

  Tapping on my front door interrupts my wicked thoughts. I try my best to dismiss it, but something in my gut is telling me otherwise.

  Knock, knock, William. Is anyone home? Do you still have your heart?

  I shake my head at the crazy internal monologue while deciding what to do next.

  Knock, knock.

  There is someone at my doorstep. What are the goddamn chances? I should ignore it, but something deep inside of me is telling me not to run. I walk out of my bedroom, towards my front door. For the first time in years I feel the flutter in my gut.

  “Who is it?” I call out.

  No one answers.

  I open the door slightly, realizing that I didn’t dress myself properly. My heart stops and everything before, during, and after becomes irrelevant. Somehow, God has decided to give me a sliver of Wonderful William back. My sweet girl has found me again.

  I swing the door open, deciding there is only one place that I am running now.

  To her.

  “Gwendolyn,” I sigh.

  “Welch,” she grins, jumping into my arms.

  For a moment everything seems like it is going to be okay as I squeeze her and inhale her scent, which is just the same from all that time ago. Our hearts beat together, for one another.

  Then I remember I have another woman hogtied on top of my bed.

  There are so many things that I want to say, but I can’t. I go back to the only way I know how to show Gwendolyn that I love her. And the only love that I have ever felt is with her. It can’t be put into words, but all the bad goes away. Only she exists and nothing else matters. I would do anything to protect her. I’d kill for her and die for her.

  Everything else becomes insignificant including Isabel.

  Gwendolyn nuzzles her face in the crook of my neck. Her warm breaths open my dark heart and pull me back away from the crazy. She grounds me. Makes me realize that I am still human, a man worth love. Worth life.

  She plants a chaste kiss on my neck. I am nearly undone. Ten years. You’d think that we would have so much to say, but when you aren’t completely normal and spent years in a state mental institution while clinging onto the only goodness you’ve ever been delivered as they try to rid your mind from it, moments like the now make me understand that I am not weak.

  I am strong.

  I lived.

  I survived.

  And by some crazy fucking fate, Gwendolyn and I found one another again.

  Portland.

  Just me and my girl with the wind in our hair next to the sea.

  The world doesn’t have shit on our love.

  “I’ve missed my Wonderful Welch,” she whispers, kissing me again.

  She pulls away from me so that our eyes lock. Her gaze is my safe place. Fuck, everything about her is my safe place. I can’t begin to take in her beauty. She’s so gorgeous, it hurts. Her green eyes sparkle with life and make me feel alive. I feel like I have been cold for so many years and she is my cordiality. She is the light to my dark. The feast to my famine. The stars to my moon. She is my all.

  I take my hand and touch her soft, ivory skin. She leans into my touch as she closes her eyes and smiles. I see that I am her safe place too. Her heavy lids open again and we are stuck on each other. I could spend hours lost in her look and never tire from it. We can speak to one another with our eyes alone. My hand makes its way to her red, wavy hair and I twirl it around my fingers, embracing the silky strands that I have longed to feel for so many years. This moment almost seems too good to be true, but it is real. It isn’t a dream. With that realization, I smile. She grins back at me as her lips part for her to speak.

  “Oh, God. Gwendolyn. I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ve missed you more than you can understand.”

  “Shhhh, no apologies. Just us. Always. Nothing will change that. Promise me from now on, no matter what it is, good or bad, we will always be us.”

  “Anything for you. I promise, sweet girl. Always.”

  Gwendolyn takes her hands and entangles them in my hair, messy and untamed. She presses her lips onto mine and I open my lips for hers as she strokes her sweet tongue alongside mine. I shake in enjoyment as I finally taste her, what I have wanted for years. She tastes sweeter than honey.

  The movements of my lips and tongue become heavier. More will never be enough for me. I couldn’t ever get my fill of Gwendolyn Beth Fitzpatrick. My hands tangle themselves in her mane and I tug gently on her locks. She moans into my mouth. I’m about to burst at the seams.

  A loud cry from the back of my apartment rips our kiss apart. Gwendolyn looks at me perplexed. I feel my heart speed up in my chest as anxiety infects me. I hear Isabel cry out again and I instantly curse myself for not putting a gag on that dumb bitch. I try to interpret the look on Gwendolyn’s face, but I can’t. Confusion is an understatement. I want to try to explain myself, but she will likely go running for the hills. Did she really mean that nothing will keep us apart? I guess this will be the ultimate test.

  “William!” Isabel yells out from my bedroom.

  “Welch?” Gwendolyn questions.

  She isn’t condescending or accusatory in her tone, but I can’t help but think that this isn’t going to end well. Maybe that is because the track record of my so called life hasn’t been that great. Perhaps she really did mean it when she said always and forever, that nothing will keep us apart now that we have found our way back to each other.

  “Welch?” she asks again.

  I’m mute. Again, words don’t come easily to me. I wish that I could just grab a pencil and paper like I used to as a teenager and convey my feelings through sketches. But life doesn’t work that way. I am a 28-year-old grown man, not some washed up, abused teen. I need to learn to cope. Well, try to. I may never get to a place where I am normal at anything, but Gwendolyn makes me want to try.

  She walks past me and down my hallway towards the sound of Isabel’s shrieks. I turn on my heels and walk behind her, opening my mouth several times to talk but nothing comes out. How can I explain that I have a woman hogtied on my bed with the urge to hurt her all because of the anger I have pent up for years? The same anger was swept away once she showed up in my life. It doesn’t make sense, but not everything needs to.

  She turns into my bedroom and I prepare myself for the end of us. Her reaction is sure to produce ruthless results.

  “What the fuck?” she states, turning around to face me.

  Gwendolyn’s lips are pursed with annoyance.

  “Please, Gwendolyn. I wish I could explain it in my fucked up brain. I wasn’t going to fuck her. In fact, I can’t stand her…” I trail.

  “I don’t need to understand what happened before me, Welch. Get this bitch out of your apartment. When I said forever, I meant it. And when I said nothing will tear us apart, I meant that too. Now, untie her and get her out of here.”

  Gwendolyn stands before me, crossing her arms at her chest.

  “Fuck you, cunt! He’s mine!” Isabel spits towards Gwendolyn.

  An evil grin splays on Gwen’s face as she walks over to the edge of the bed until she is right
before Isabel. She brings her hand up, smacking her across her face.

  “No, bitch. He’s mine. Seems you need some proof.”

  My breath catches in my throat as Gwendolyn turns back to face me, her cheeks pink with arousal and need. She cocks an eyebrow at me then smiles. Nothing else matters as I feel my cock throb to life. I never thought it was possible to feel so many emotions at once.

  “Welch, come here,” she states as her hands make their way to the bottom of her white T-shirt.

  I immediately oblige, taking a few steps over to her until she is inches before me. I reach behind her back to unclasp her bra and she shakes it free from her shoulders, leaving herself bare before me. Fucking Christ, she is stunning, so much that I am sure that my heart is about to stop.

  “What the fuck are you two doing?” Isabel yells, struggling against the twine rope.

  I want to laugh at her because her fight is pointless.

  “Just watch, bitch. Bet you’ll be dripping wet soon enough,” Gwendolyn spits back over her shoulder.

  “Another word from you, I will pull out my gag. Listen to the lady,” I seethe at Isabel.

  She stays quiet with no tears present. I let my hands explore Gwendolyn’s body while she shivers below my touch. I bend my head down and plant open mouthed kisses near her collarbone, still allowing my hands to explore her silky smooth skin. My hand makes its way to her full breast and I can’t help but notice how much her body has changed in ten years. She was stunning before, but she has certainly grown into herself as her breasts are now fuller.

  My mouth moves down to her pink, perky nipple and I take it into my mouth, sucking gently. I want to remember every second that we are sharing. Moments of goodness can be shared but can also be ripped out of your life painfully, leaving you wounded, worried, and worthless again.

  For now, I am hers. I am good. I am love. She is mine. She is love.

  We are us.

  Little sighs that come from her send waves of pleasure to my heart and cock. I want to take my time and show every single part of her body how much I have missed her and how much I love her. As I stand before her in nothing more than my underwear, her hand grazes the outside of them. Oh, how delightful. If she only understood how long I have yearned for her touch.

  If she only knew that I would re-do everything to get the time that we lost back, I would. But again, our bodies tango with one another instead of words. We put the fire at bay as we soak up the adoration that is nearly awe-consuming.

  I pull my lips away from her breast, kissing down her stomach until I am at the button of her jeans. I unsnap it quickly, looking forward to smelling her pussy. There isn’t anything else like it. My fingers tug on her jeans and panties and I pull them down her thighs until they reach her ankles. She giggles, realizing her shoes are still on. Fuck the shoes. Her bare pussy is right in front of my face. I bring my nose down to it, inhaling sharply. My mouth waters in response. I need to make her come at least twice before I make love to her.

  Yes, make love. That is what I will do. There will be no fucking. I will love her like she deserves.

  She pushes my shoulders away as she kicks her shoes off, then her pants, finally fully naked. At last…

  I lay down on the cold, hardwood floor, welcoming the minor discomfort that it brings. Some fucked up boys never change their ways. The pain will always be a constant friend of mine, however right now I don’t need it. I just need her.

  I tug my boxers off and study Gwendolyn, completely tuning out Isabel. Dumb bitch should have never come here to begin with.

  “I’ve waited so long for this. For you,” I whisper.

  “You are so beautiful, it hurts,” I whimper as she stands bare before me.

  She gives me a crooked grin.

  “Some things never change, Welch.”

  I furrow my brows, unsure what that means.

  She gives me a million-dollar smile and bends down to straddle me. I hiss between my teeth, gripping onto her hips.

  “Pain. Our lovely little friend,” she returns, grinding her hips along my hard shaft.

  “Fuck,” is all I can muster.

  She smiles wider.

  “You said I was so beautiful it hurt…”

  Ah, now it makes sense.

  “Some monsters never change their wicked ways, Welch.”

  She cups my face and I lean into her touch as she rocks her hips harder over me. I need her and I need her now.

  “I wouldn’t ever want you to change or be anyone but you. My Wonderful fucking William Welch.”

  With that, I break again. I turn her onto her back swiftly. Our eyes never leave each other’s. Our hearts have intertwined into each other’s and suddenly everything has fallen into place at this very second. Life may have not been fair, but it led me to her. I’d travel it a thousand more times just to have her in my life.

  She is the hot ember to my fire. The reason that my heart has continued to beat even when I felt like digging my own grave, crawling inside, and shooting my fucking brains out. Not now. She makes me want to live.

  “I love you, sweet girl. Always…”

  “I love you too, Welch.”

  I lean down and press my lips onto hers while pushing her hips further apart. She reaches down and grabs a hold of my hard cock. I groan loudly into her mouth. She tightens her grip and I know that I won’t be able to handle much more. I urge myself forward as she guides me inside of her.

  Emptiness is gone and filled with goodness as my sweet girl lets me make love to her. For the first time in my life, I see a future. I’ve been alone for far too long, a little lost boy who has tried to forget his torn and tattered soul. Now, none of that matters.

  Her little moans take me closer to my exploding point.

  I pull my lips away from hers.

  “You feel perfect, sweet girl.”

  She gazes at me through lust drunk eyes while her bottom lip trembles. I feel her tighten around me, so I move my hips harder into her.

  “Oh fuck, Welch. More. Please.”

  With that, I let go as she claws into my back, still giving me a piece of what I need, understanding that I will always be me.

  And you know the best part of it all? She loves me anyway.

  We are both out of breath as I remain inside of her. Gwendolyn erupts into a fit of laughter. I can’t help but smile.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “I think it’s safe to say he’s mine, bitch.”

  Fucking, eating, sleeping, repeat for twenty-four hours. It’s safe to say that we are stuck with each other and we are both more than okay with that. After Gwendolyn proved her point to Isabel, I untied her as she cursed me in Spanish, insulting me for being such a crazy and shitty lover. None of her remarks bothered me in the slightest. I should feel bad about keeping her on top of my bed, but the truth is, there was always something about her from the very beginning that wasn’t quite right.

  I guess it was my way of putting her in her place. I haven’t had much time to think about what I would have done if Gwendolyn didn’t show up, but it doesn’t matter because I didn’t go there. Gwendolyn hasn’t asked about Isabel, which I find to be odd. I haven’t offered her information. After all, what woman wants to hear about previous sex partners? None.

  It turns out that Gwendolyn was looking to get a tattoo, though I think there is something more to her story. I didn’t ask any more questions about what brought her to my tattoo shop, though I wanted to. I suppose I am still in the phase of needing to pinch myself to believe that I belong to her.

  I’ve been so lost without her, and now that I have some direction, I am scared of losing her again. I don’t want to play the twenty questions game, so I bite my tongue. There are so many things I want to know, what facility she was at, where she lives, how she feels, but I can’t push her.

  After getting over the surprise of seeing me and me not being able to speak to her, she hung around and waited for me to get off work at Black Lotus I
nk. My sweet Gwendolyn followed me home to see where I lived then found the courage to come up later to see me. Whatever, I am just glad to have her in my arms.

  We are laying in my bed, tangled in my sheets with the smell of sex and sweat heavy in the air. Her perky breasts rise and fall in a perfect pattern with her tiny breaths. Her lips are parted slightly and her eyes are shut tightly as she occasionally scrunches them together. I grin to myself, wondering what she is dreaming about. For a second, my heart skips a beat. I hope that she is dreaming sweet dreams and not suffering from the ill effects from our previous tormentor. I know all about nightmares and how bad it can fuck a person up. I don’t sleep much as a result. No wonder I am crazy.

  I dismiss thoughts of creepy Claude while admiring her crimson hair that is fanned out on the pillow. I could spend hours watching her sleep. It is one of the most beautiful and peaceful things I have been witness to. She has the look of an angel, the soul of a gladiator, and the heart of a goddamn saint.

  And she’s mine.

  I rest my forehead on her temple then let my lips touch her cheek. She stirs slightly, smiling before she opens her eyes.

  “Did you sleep well, sweet girl?”

  “I did. I had great dreams.”

  “Of what?” I ask as she turns to look at me.

  “A tiny cabin in the woods overlooking the sea-”

  “With the wind in our hair?” I interrupt.

  She nods her head with a big grin on her face.

  “I was sipping hot tea on the porch in a rocker and you were chopping wood.”

  “Doesn’t seem like it could be too far off for us, Gwen. If you want a simple life with a cabin in the woods, I will get that for you. Whatever you want, I will get it for you.”

  “Really? West Coast love finally!” she squeals, putting her arms around my neck.

  I laugh as she kisses my cheek like a giddy high school girl.

  “Yes, I will make all your dreams come true. Life has been hard enough. Let’s live happily…”