Lost Angel (The List #1)

by N. K. Love

  “Uh-huh. Yes I like it… Go deeper.” I have no reservations about lying to him if it’ll get me what I need, otherwise I’m fighting a losing battle here. I lean back and with the hand I was using to hold myself up I push his middle finger inside me then hold his wrist and push up forcing him deeper. Honestly, I’d be better off finger blasting myself. I’m just getting more and more frustrated.

  I let out a sigh—or rather, a lie—of pleasure and we continue like this for a few minutes. Leaning back down, I kiss him again but reluctantly concede that nothing about this foreplay is going to miraculously blow me away so I reach for the condom.

  Silently I pray that he’s holding back some tricks and it’s going to be a good finale… Then as he moves his hands to clasp them behind his head, I notice him wiping his fingers on his pillow, almost it some sort of neat-freak way of disgust. Any morsel of desire I had left, just sprinted out the room screaming ‘You’re having a fucking laugh’. He should be licking his fingers clean as though it’s water in a desert because it’s a miracle there’s any lubrication there in the first place—it certainly wasn’t from his doing.

  I need to get this dick inside me before I decide to lean forward and suffocate him with my breasts instead. My inner Miss Fierce is trying to convince me that it’d be a good way to go…

  I take the condom out and hand it to him as I shuffle down his thighs to give him access. He fumbles around with it for a while—he can’t even manage this. Just as I’m about to take over he pulls my hips back into position. As much as I’d prefer skin to skin, it’s too much effort now. I don’t think he’ll appreciate it and he hasn’t earned it so he doesn’t deserve it anyway. Fuck it, my dress is staying on.

  Steve stares deeply into my eyes. “Are you ready?” I nod slowly and close my eyes briefly, hoping that he can’t see into my mind as my alter ego double act are rolling around on the floor in hysterics.

  I take hold of him, pulling my thong back to the side and get him in position. Lowering myself down, I finally feel some of the pleasure I’ve been chasing for the last… well it’s got to be what… nine maybe even ten minutes!? My expectations have been overinflated—I’m going to kill Willow.

  Steve is lying back grinning like a cool Cheshire cat until I lock down my hips hard and roll forward taking him as deep as he’ll go. He quickly loses his arrogant pretence and shifts his hands to my hips in a panic. “Whoa there, eager beaver!”

  ‘Eager fucking beaver’!? Sorry Steve, I’ve given you plenty of chances to call the shots, too little too late now I’m afraid. I shut him up with a kiss and repeat my rolling hip action over and over. He tries to mumble something but I just deepen the kiss, not wanting to hear another word from him. God knows what’s gotten into me but I like the feeling of taking charge, even if it is out of desperation for an orgasm.

  I have to give myself permission to imagine I’m straddling Jaxson’s tidy waist instead, it’s the only chance I’ve got. I lean back up, closing my eyes, visualising myself towering over Jaxson’s immaculately muscular upper body, staring into his lovely eyes. I must’ve thought of Jaxson’s body so much lately it’s not difficult to picture him lying beneath me. I rotate my hips and push down as hard as I can each time trying but failing to hit the spot. My mind’s all over the place.

  Opening my eyes and resting my hands on his, Steve’s breathing has hitched. I can see he is close to coming already. I haven’t got long so I have to morph him back into Jaxson and move my hand between my legs. I squeeze my fingers around the base of his cock and he grunts in pleasure, thinking this good deed is for him. In reality, I just want to rub my palm against my clit for some much needed extra stimulation.

  I replace my palm with Jaxson’s and I’m finally reaching… and reaching… for a long awaited orgasm tha—at… has just fucked off out the door to catch up with my scraps of desire. It’s flatlined before it ever really began and I don’t even get chance to fake an orgasm for him. Not that he deserves it, but that’s my usual protocol at the end of unfulfilling sex.

  My vagina must be cursed. I am still the best person to make me come and at my age, that’s just depressing as hell.

  Steve immediately pushes my hips up and mutters something about me getting off him so he can take off the condom. What a gentleman!

  I oblige feeling used, how the fuck did that happen? He blatantly knows I didn’t come but I can tell by his body language that he got what he wanted, the shutters are down and he has no intention of turning any attention to me. Possibly that’s because he hasn’t got a fucking clue how to please a woman anyway. I shake my head in irritation and I go to the bathroom. I lock the door and perch myself on the side of the bath to finish the job and ease this pent up frustration. Then I need to get the hell out of here.

  I vow to go shopping with Wills as soon as possible to treat myself to a new vibrator.

  Men are totally overrated.

  I hitch my dress up to my hips and feel my thong is soaking wet. My blood chills my veins at the realisation that there is no way in the world this is all me. Fuck! I wipe and wash myself feeling physically sick then return to the bedroom.

  The look on Steve’s face confirms my suspicion and then I see the near empty condom in his hands. Fuckity, fuck, f-fuck! Can this get any worse?

  Chapter Eleven

  Thursday 26th March 2015

  2:01pm

  Willow called around places first thing this morning and managed to secure me a cancellation appointment at a private sexual health clinic for this morning. I had a full house of screening and took the morning-after pill.

  What an ironic position I’ve found myself in… A fortnight ago I wanted my husband to commit to trying for a baby in the future… Now my body is currently absorbing an emergency contraception to prevent pregnancy from a stranger on a one night stand.

  I barely said a word at the clinic; just nodding and answering questions when prompted. I now have to face an agonisingly long week of waiting for the results. Steve was fairly convincing with his argument as to how clean he is but I need to hear it from the professionals. I already feel like he hoodwinked me, albeit unintentionally.

  Once we’re back at home, I take a long bubble bath to wash away last night and my visit to the clinic. My thoughts carelessly travel to the lovely warm fuzzy feeling of being called ‘Angel’ by my horny forbidden gladiator. In truth, Jaxson hasn’t been far from my thoughts since Tricks, which seems like so long ago. How can I allow somebody to dominate my thoughts after such little interaction? It’s as if I don’t have a choice in the matter, which is ridiculous and proves that my decision not to instigate anything more with him is the correct one. I’d be like a lamb to the slaughter.

  After last night, I feel like I’ve taken ten steps backwards and for the first time since moving in with Wills, I begin to doubt myself and the way that I’ve handled my separation. Maybe I shouldn’t have started being physical with anybody so soon. Maybe I wasn’t ready, emotionally or even physically, as much as my body would argue the point. I feel disorientated inside my own head, empty and confused.

  My life has always had a definitive path to follow. I should know, I stupidly paved it myself, brick by brick. Now I’ve come to terms with my biggest mistakes and I admit that I wasn’t anywhere near as happy as I’d convinced myself that I was. My structured relationship gave me false security, it was my comfort blanket. Everything was simple; black or white. Now I’ve plunged so far into the grey that this so-called angel feels more lost now than ever before. I’m trying and failing to find my way. I want to feel like I belong but I’m not the type of person who feels at home in the grey and I can’t imagine that ever changing.

  5:46pm

  Willow has made me something to eat and won’t take no for an answer. We talk and talk at the kitchen island, which I know is better than locking myself in my room stewing over it. When I do that, my obsessive melodramatic mind quickly manages to blow situations way out of proportion.

 
; I repeat to her all the feelings of doubt and anxiety I was thinking about in the bath. She knows I am questioning how I’ve handled myself over the last week or so and that I’m regretting that stupid ‘Fuck It’ list. I feel better for just airing my thoughts.

  Wills makes us a hot chocolate; comfort drinks to match the unhealthy comfort snacks she thoughtfully picked up from the shops on the way home. We go through to the lounge.

  Feeling a little lighter, I tell her all about last night in more detail and she doesn’t laugh once, which I was half expecting as it sounds like a crazy comedy sketch when I recall it.

  “B, if it makes you feel any better, my guy was utter shite too. Maybe these stocks and shares guys don’t have it in them. Too overworked and underplayed!”

  “What? Really? I can’t imagine you letting anybody get away with not satisfying you!” I always assumed Willow made sure she had a good time every time.

  “Beth, I’m not some man-eating sex mad bitch you know, well maybe a little but you can never truly know if somebody is going to be decent in bed or not, it’s always a gamble. I’ve had super shy girls that’ve turned into pussy eating tigresses and knobnoxious beasts that’ve turned out to be tame and lame. You win some, you lose some.”

  “Knobnoxious? Is that a thing?”

  “It is now! But seriously though, aside from the whole condom splitting bullshit, please do not let this throw you back. It might not feel like it now, but you’ve come a long way—Well not last night, you didn’t come at all last night, but—” She’s smiling with sweet innocence, taking my silence as an invitation to continue. “Joking aside B, you’ve gotta get up, dust yourself off and get back on the looooove train.” She makes a ‘choo-choo’ gesture by repeatedly fist pumping the sky.

  “Oooh okay, okay, now you’ve got jokes?” I raise my eyebrows and fold my arms, semi-serious. I can see her trying to judge if she can push it a little bit more…

  “Oh sorry, I thought you liked it… Tell me you like it—” She pretends to zip up her mouth as I shake my head, but I can’t hold in a little smirk. “That’s it, I’m done now, I promise.” Wills holds her palms up to me in surrender. “Just let me know when you’re ready to laugh about it though ‘cause I haven’t even started on whole finger wiping—”

  “Yeah yeah, I get it. I’m such a joke. My sex life is so ridiculously funny right?” She hears my sarcasm and comes to sit by me on the sofa. I take a few deep breaths and she holds my hand, sensing the storm that’s brewing. My eyes well up.

  “It’s not just last night Wills, I feel out of control and not in a free spirited, eleutheromaniac kinda way. I’ve kissed a guy who didn’t stick around long enough to ask my name, kissed a girl, told a gladiator I’m a lesbian and finally had a shit one night… wait… a shit fifteen-minute-stand and because the idiot fucked up the condom I’ve been to a fucking clinic to be tested.” My tears are falling thick and fast now and my voice is barely understandable. “No, you’re right Wills. We should be sitting here laughing our tits off at my pathetic attempts to be sexy and single… You even had to make a list because I’m that inexperienced, I don’t have a fucking clue what the—” Muffling my words, Willow buries my tears into a bear hug. I give in and shut up. I didn’t expect to get that emotional but as I hear myself, I feel like not only did I already fail at being a wife but now I’m failing at being single.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ssshhh. I didn’t mean to upset you babes. I didn’t realise you were so cut up. I’m sorry.” Willow holds me, rubbing my back until I’ve completely calmed down, which takes forever.

  Willow puts on her serious face to make up for failing at the light-hearted approach.

  “Okay. Please just bear with me and listen… In the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you consistently as happy as you’ve been since living here. When I told you that you’d got a sparkle, it was true and you’ve still got it. Even when you’re sitting here upset, you’ve still got it. You’ve been so positive, free, open and just happy, that after that shitty mess from last night, you’re understandably questioning everything. But you can’t deny the fun times we’ve had in such a short amount of time. Imagine what the future holds when you have such a positive, free spirited outlook on life and live in the moment, just like your mom said.”

  Wills lets go of my hands and passes me my mug. “And I still think the ‘Fuck It’ list is a wicked idea. You know it wasn’t written as a ‘dummies guide to getting laid’ so don’t even try and play it like it was some sort of ‘pity plan’… The list is brief and leaves everything in your hands; it was always just a bit of fun to help you be less controlling. Don’t trample on it please, it will work if you give it chance.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m here for you but I’m not letting you go into self-destruct mode so don’t bother thinking that I’m gonna be taking my foot off the pedal because as your friend I honestly don’t think that’s what you need.”

  “Oh really? And what exactly do you think I need?”

  “You’re not a fragile little girl B, so I’d never insult you by treating you like one. You’re a fucking strong woman who’s accomplished so much but now is the time to ‘Fuck It’ and have some fun.” I’m stunned by her words because without realising it, they’re exactly what I needed to hear. She knows me so well. “Look, I’ll give you grace until you get the all clear from the clinic. But then it’s game on. Back on track.” I blow my nose with a tissue and pat my cheeks dry with my sleeve. Finally, I smile at her and I can see in her eyes that’s she’s relieved. “Agreed?”

  I know she’s right. I love that she talks straight and tells me how it is. It somehow realigns me from my wayward tendencies. I’ve let the dark cloud of negativity come and ruin my sunshine. I’m going to use my time waiting for the results to get my head together and then yes, it’s game on! “Fuck It! Agreed, you ruthless cow.” Another hug and a high five, we clink hot chocolate mugs.

  “Soooo Jax, the gladiator huh?” She winks but knows it’s not the right time to press. “Anyway, you can cross off number 2 – handjob! It may have been rubbish but it was an experience all the same. Two down, twenty-eight to go!” Forever the optimist.

  We finish the evening watching “Mad Men” and have a much needed early night. Later on I notice Wills work rota suggests she should’ve been at work but I find out she’s called in to be with me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Thursday 2nd April 2015

  9:04am

  I put the phone down, having called the clinic the minute they opened at 9am. Thankfully April Fool’s Day was yesterday, otherwise I probably wouldn’t believe the lady that’s just told me I’m in the clear on all screening, except for syphilis, which will take another couple of days. I’d started expecting the worst as though that’d protect me if it turned out to be bad news. Instead, I breathe a huge week-long sigh of relief. I can finally put this saga behind me.

  As planned, I’ve spent the week getting my head straight. I feel fully focused again and I’ve been a busy bee. I went into work a couple of times this week, daily yoga and meditation, written a few poems – a hobby that helps me process situations, lots of bedtime reading, met up with some old uni friends for a coffee, had some girly nights in with Wills that mostly involving wine and take-away food and caught up with Mike on the phone and my parents.

  My favourite thing this week was the couple of reiki healing sessions Willow set up for us here at home. The reiki master, Palmer, who came by was recommended by Willows yoga instructor. He’s in his late 30’s, short with floppy brown hair that reaches his shoulders. Palmer commands your focus in a spiritual way and I bought into his aura immediately. So much so that the first session was overwhelming. After a pep talk from Wills, I was able to completely give myself to the experience and it was so pure and wonderful. Palmer came back a couple of days later, apparently to continue work realigning my chakras; whatever he did felt enlightening. It’s been so empowering and I feel a sense of a
we for the people that are able to fully immerse themselves in this way of life.

  I’ve also been to the gym every day, either in the morning for a wake up run or swim, or during the day for a class. Wills and I even blasted out a spin class together to help burn off the copious amounts of calories we’ve consumed lately.

  Wills definitely picked the perfect gym for people watching. The layout is ideal and it’s now standard practice for me to take advantage of eyeing up the never ending talent streaming in and out of the place. Wills and I have mastered our ‘facial language’. We can literally have a conversation from across the room, pointing out members worthy of casual perusal or some subtle crotch watching; all in the name of getting into our fitness zone, obviously.

  The more I’m drawn to muscular, physically fit men, the more I come to realise that that is my preference. It possibly always has been. Being in a relationship obviously switched off the part of me that turns an innocent look at somebody thinking ‘they’re good looking’, to a far from innocent look at somebody thinking ‘Mmm the things I could do to that body’. But I know now that I’m attracted to men who look after themselves, which they have to be to pull off some of the bodies that exhibit themselves around 24/7, not that I’m complaining. I want a man who I strongly connect with in body, mind and heart – My elusive triple threat.