Nothing but Darkness

by Maria Ann Green

  “Certainly. I’ll have them to you by noon.” Remember to smile.

  “Thanks, Aid.”

  Do. Not. Call. Me. That.

  “No problem Ev,” I reply.

  My smile’s plastered to my face so tightly I fear my cheeks may crack with the pressure. I must look like a phony. Though she must be placated since she turns on the spot, shaking her cheeks down the hallway to her damn larger office.

  Why a woman like that was chosen over me I refuse to understand. Apparently the wonderful world of finance is based more on fuckability than actual practical knowledge and experience. I could calculate circles around her.

  She must have sucked the right dick to get the job that was promised to me months ago. I can just see her acting coy, shy even, to entice the right boss before sinking her filthy claws into him. I can’t fathom her earning anything of value without showing off some of that pink undercarriage.

  I wonder if I can fuck up her reputation with the superiors. How could I get her into deep shit without walking through the same? That’s a thought I’ll have to store to revisit later in more depth.

  ****

  Gladly, the rest of my day goes by without incident. I don’t plan my violent revenge upon Eva. I don’t fall asleep at my desk pretending to finish reports that were already completed. There’s nothing of significance to speak of, good or bad. For the first time in a long time, I’m somewhat perturbed with an uneventful day. I can’t think of another time in my recent past when I believed I needed more adventure.

  More sex yes, adventure not so much.

  I generally find myself satisfied with my life. I enjoy having more than enough money (who wouldn’t?). I find my work to be easy without crossing to the side of boredom. I’m not tied down to a woman I don’t love. I don’t have children crying or shitting in my clean home.

  I’ve always been content.

  Though right now I’m falling short of the contentment I’ve long since habituated myself to. It’s almost as if there’s something itching its way into my system, leaving me tingling and unfulfilled.

  I need more.

  I haven’t a clue what it is I need more of, but I’m absolutely positive I’m missing something I hadn’t needed before. I could be wrong. Maybe there isn’t an emptiness burrowing inside of me, continuing to grow until I feed the desire with…with whatever I haven’t found. Maybe instead, this dull, throbbing need to scratch at an unnamed, untapped excitement is simply an early midlife crisis.

  It’s possible.

  Or maybe I just need more sex like last night in my life. Maybe I need a vacation. Maybe I need a new adventure.

  Maybe I just need to get over myself and calm the fuck down.

  I’ve little time to brood over my newly developed dissatisfaction, though, as Jason stomps into my office with too much enthusiasm. His large presence engulfs the entire doorway.

  “You gonna go home to change before coming over?” Shit. I forgot about the game. Guess I won’t be entertaining Melody tonight. Did I even get her number?

  I head toward the door so we can make our way outside while hashing out plans. “Yeah, I don’t want to wear this suit. I’ll be over in an hour.”

  In the elevator Jason punches the button harder than necessary. I notice how fat his fingers have become with added weight. Time has not been as kind to Jason as it has to me. I wonder what our classmates will think at our next reunion. Will they be jealous of his happy family?

  Am I the only one who has no desire to settle down with baggage?

  “Sounds good.” Jason’s heavy cheeks flush with the cool air outside, and his smile is wider than his middle.

  His constant upbeat outlook can be wearing.

  Freshly showered and changed, with a case of beer in hand, I hesitate at Jason’s door. There are so many other things I could be doing tonight. I know he’s my friend, I like spending time with him, but honestly we don’t need to watch football together every single week. We already see each other every day at work.

  “Shit,” I mumble. I’m a fucking terrible friend. Without any more hesitation, I knock.

  “Well there you are, buddy. Food is sizzling. The drinks are cold. C’mon.” Jason steps aside for me to enter. I only have time to take a couple breaths before his three little daughters come bounding toward us.

  “Uncle Aidan!” My name’s squealed in unison in a pitch higher than I should be able to hear. Truthfully Kayla, Sadie, and Delilah are beautiful little girls. But they don’t encourage me to procreate when they shriek, bouncing around like this. These girls cause destruction wherever they go. Tornadoes. They’re cute little tornadoes.

  “Hey, girls.” I stoop to hug each. “How’re you tonight?” What could be new with seven-, five-, and three-year-olds, I have no idea. Maybe a new Barbie was invented since I was over last week.

  “We’re watching Fishy. Wanna watch with us?”

  Hell no.

  “Sounds like fun, honey, but Uncle Aidan told your daddy he’d watch TV with him tonight. Maybe next time.”

  Fat fucking chance, kiddo. You’re cute, but not that cute.

  “I want a fishy like Nemo. Daddy can we have a fishy?” Little Delilah chimes in before the other two can get too upset I’m not joining them. Thank you, Delilah.

  “Er…ask your mom,” Jason says. With that, all three are off as fast as they came.

  “I bet you use that one all the time.” When I walk into the living room, I drop my case of beer on the oak coffee table. My feet aren’t far behind.

  “You bet your ass I do. It’s all up to Amelia. That way she can never blame me.” His smirk shows a deviant satisfied with his bullshit.

  “You shouldn’t give away all your tricks or they’ll stop working.” Amelia’s sultry voice fills the air, thick and sweet as honey, while she glides into the room with a sway to her hips.

  Fuck me.

  I’ve got to stop myself from dropping my jaw and drooling as she comes closer. Amelia’s tits are prouder, perkier, than ever in a clingy purple dress. Her hips are as round as her tight ass. Aerobics have been good to Amelia.

  “Oops, pretend you didn’t hear that, babe.” Jason breaks my momentary daze with his response.

  “Hey, Mel. How’ve you been?” Would you like to sit on my face, is what I’d rather ask, but as she’s my best friend’s wife that’d probably be frowned upon.

  “Great. Everything’s good. How ’bout you?” Though I never see myself getting married or having children, Amelia’s one woman who could’ve made me question my resolve. If I could fuck someone that gorgeous day in and day out, I might reconsider. But since she’s taken I doubt I’ll ever make a commitment.

  “Same ol’ shit. I’m always good.”

  I’d be better if I were between your legs, inside of you.

  Stop that shit.

  I mentally shake myself of the image, popping open a beer for distraction. I have to stop thinking such trashy thoughts about Amelia. I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight. Something’s in the air I think.

  “I’ll go get the food.” She stops to kiss Jason’s forehead before turning toward the kitchen and giving me another thought I shouldn’t be having. Jason turns on the TV, allowing me time to get the lust out of my eyes.

  “So how was your night last night?” Jason slops beer onto his chin as he tips his bottle back, then uses the back of his hand, not a napkin, to clear it away. It’s a cringeworthy thing to watch. He isn’t always the cleanest person. I usually don’t like dirty people. I like dirty women. Dirty sexually. But dirty men are a whole different story. Dirty for men equals disgusting. And Jason used to be cleaner. Maybe each pound he packed on lead to the loss of a social skill.

  “Well I brought someone home. She was so damn—”

  “Here you go, guys. If you finish all this just let me know. I’ll whip up some more.” Amelia comes in before I say anything too vulgar.

  “Thanks, baby. You’re too good for me.”

&nb
sp; She sure is.

  “I sure am.” Her lashes flutter as she winks at her husband. She passes him a plate then sets the tray of wings, chips, dip, and pizza on the coffee table.

  Jason’s eyes are on the TV instead of the ravishing cleavage so near. He may be my best friend, but what a fucking idiot. I’d be ravenous.

  I’ve heard even the most beautiful women can have a man get tired of fucking them, though I struggle with why. Well, unless you’re factoring in their personalities, opinions, baggage, nagging…Okay I guess I understand.

  “Game time,” he barks around a mouthful of greasy cheese.

  “And that’s my cue to scoot.” As Amelia leans over to hand me my plate her creamy skin is so close to my face. Closer than it should be. As the plunging neckline of her dress deepens with her bend, my eyes are glued. Unlike Jason I could never get tired of looking at this. Her delicate fingers brush my knee as she hands over my food, and there’s something in her smile I’ve never seen before. “Have fun, boys,” she purrs. Then in the next instant she’s gone.

  While I eat, watching the game, drinking too many beers, all I can think about is Amelia. What was in her odd smile? I memorize the tingle that shot from my knee to my dick with her—surely accidental—touch since it’ll be the only time I’ll ever experience it. It was something to remember, though.

  By halftime my bladder can take no more alcohol. “Be back in a minute.”

  Amelia, Melody, and Eva invade my thoughts as I walk upstairs and down the quiet hallways to the bathroom. Three women capable of inducing blood flow at a rapid rate.

  “How are you two on food? The girls are in bed now, so I can make more if you need.”

  I yelp in surprise as Amelia’s head pops out from around a doorframe. Her thick hair swings down toward the floor as she smiles at my flinch.

  “Shit, you scared me.” I laugh with her at my reaction.

  What a baby.

  “Naughty. You shouldn't be swearing. The girls aren’t far away.” Amelia’s eyes light up, with what I think is mischief, then her smile’s broader than before.

  “Damn, I’m sorry.” She steps out of her bedroom and my cock twitches at what I see. Her dress has been shed for a super short crimson silk kimono that should be tied a little tighter. She didn’t expect to see me again tonight. Right?

  “There you go again. What’re we gonna do with you?”

  Anything you want is what I think, but, “Uuhhh…” is the only appropriate thing I can come up with to actually say.

  She takes my idiocy in stride, laughing. “I’ll go down to make dessert.”

  “You don’t have to. We’re fine. Everything you prepared was delicious. As always.” There, that’s much more coherent.

  “Don’t be silly. I’m here to please.”

  “Okay. If you insist. I’d never turn down your cooking.” I start to turn, reaching for the bathroom’s knob, but stop when I see Amelia wink in response. I turn back to face her with my fingers still on the handle.

  “See you downstairs.” Did I imagine her voice dropping to a breathier tone?

  Amelia smiles, bending over, slower than typical, to pick up one of her daughter’s toys on the floor, and I’m shocked at what she reveals to me. I can see everything down her robe from her sweet, pink nipples to the creamy tops of her soft thighs.

  Before I have any more time to think, I jerk the bathroom door open to run inside.

  Mel’s shaved. I can’t un-think the thought. I can’t un-see her body. She’s toned. She’s hot. And fucking shaved.

  Fuck.

  It feels as if my mind’s blank and racing simultaneously. I hear Amelia head down the stairs, then I catch faint laughing from Jason. Maybe they’re laughing at me. Is it possible I completely misinterpreted what happened, and now she’s telling him all about my mistake?

  But what the fuck did happen?

  As I take too long to finish up in the bathroom, I decide I’m an idiot. Mel and Jason have been sickeningly in love for longer than I can remember. If she even realizes she showed me her goods it couldn’t have been intentional, and she’ll be embarrassed. On the other hand, she might have no idea what I saw. Best response is to pretend nothing happened.

  I walk back downstairs with a slightly less embarrassed air, calmed. If I don’t think about it, I’ll move past it. Then we can both pretend nothing happened.

  But, fuck me, what I saw was more phenomenal than what I’d imagined could be beneath those clothes. Especially after popping out kids. Three of them. Jason’s too lucky. I don’t know what he did in his past life to deserve that next to him at night, but I’d better start working on my karma.

  “If my bathroom reeks, the next game is at your place. You took long enough. The game’s about to come back on.” Clueless Jason.

  “I’ll order pizza next weekend. My place is fine.” That way I can actually watch the game instead of your wife’s ass bouncing above those toned legs that go on forever.

  “Deal.”

  I need to get out of this house before I take her by force, becoming a criminal and losing my best friend at the same time. I need to get home. Get away. I need to think rationally. I need to get out.

  “I’ll bring the beer,” he adds. Ignorant Jason. Blissfully ignorant. Lucky, fucking-dumb-as-shit, blissfully ignorant Jason. At least he’s happy. That’s for the better.

  “Great,” I respond as I set my last beer on the coffee table and ease to my feet. My first instinct is to run out of the house as fast as I can, but I need to remain conspicuous. “Well this game is already lost. I think I’ll head home. I’ve got a couple things I need to finish up before I head to bed.” Jason’s smile falls in an instant.

  “Really? There’s still a quarter left.” His disappointment is pitiful.

  “I know, buddy. But I have to go.” I add a provocative wiggle of my eyebrows. Maybe Jason will assume I’m going home to fuck somebody else instead of fantasizing about his wife in her silk robe. His wife against the rough siding of his house. His wife in the shower…

  Much safer assumption on his part.

  “Oooohhhh. Okay.” Mission accomplished. “Nice,” he adds.

  Jason walks me to the door, and it takes every bit of focus I have not to turn around for a glimpse of Amelia’s hopefully exposed skin. “See you in the AM. Don’t drink too much when we lose. Eva will crack down on your ass for a hangover.”

  “She’s such a bitch, isn’t she?” At least I’m not the only one who thinks so.

  “Huge one.” I could say more, but even with Jason I don’t want to chance anything biting me in the ass. I can think any evil thought I want about that woman. I just don’t need to utter them out loud.

  “Bye.” I wave with the hand not pulling my jacket closed on the way to my car. I’m definitely rushing more than necessary, but I’m so thankful to reach my car. The cold air is refreshing, so I leave my windows cracked on my way home, trying my hardest not to think about Amelia’s silky skin. I refuse to get hard.

  I refuse, damn it.

  I will myself to refrain. Maybe if I continue over and over with a mantra of, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I actually can.

  Or maybe not.

  I look down at my crotch as I pull into my driveway. Rolling my eyes, I yank out my incredibly erect dick and start to stroke. My eyes glance to the stars briefly before closing to imagine several erotic images I should not be thinking. Behind my eyelids, I envision Amelia’s full lips wrapped tightly around the tip of my cock. I can see her knuckles turning lighter from the pressure of squeezing my lower shaft. What I wouldn’t give for fantasy to become reality.

  KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

  I jolt out of my imagination to the present as masculine knuckles rap against my car window. Thank fucking god my jacket is covering my exposed crotch. What the fuck was I thinking jacking it in my car, parked in the open night air, instead of waiting until I got into the privacy of my home? I need to get my shit together. These women
, they’ve hypnotized me with sex, used their sorcery to scramble my brain.

  Fucking women. All they do is fuck shit up.

  I finally look up to the man outside my SUV who interrupted my stroke session. And, while I zip up as discretely as possible under my thin fabric cover, I’m somewhat surprised to see I have no idea who he is. As I turn the key to roll down my window, I notice a small scar above his left eyebrow. His jaw is clenched and his nostrils are slightly flared as if he’s uncomfortable or frustrated. He doesn’t look happy.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Could I borrow your cell phone for a second? My car died a couple blocks back.” He points southwest, toward Main Street. “I have no idea what’s wrong with it. I was hoping you’d let me use your cell to call my roadside assistance.” So he isn’t a cop here to arrest me for indecent exposure. He isn’t the angry husband of any women I’ve fucked. He isn’t a nosey neighbor asking if I’ve fallen asleep at the wheel. He seems to be a normal guy in need of some help.

  Thank fucking god for that.

  “Sure.” I get out of my car, making sure to lock it behind me before handing him my phone with a sigh of relief. His unfortunate circumstances explain his air of frustration well enough. I’m not here to be assassinated.

  He smiles, displaying crooked, stained teeth as he grabs my cell.

  “Thank you so much. I seriously appreciate it. My name’s Mark, and you are?” He extends his hand to shake when he asks. As I connect my hand with his I can feel his calluses as if he works outside for a living. Mine feels too soft in comparison. An odd feeling ripples through my chest, but as quickly as it arrives it leaves, and I have no time to analyze it.

  “Aaron. I’m Aaron. Nice to meet you, Mark.” Why did I lie? Giving a fake name, requiring anonymity, aren’t normal impulses of mine.

  I don’t even know this guy.

  I start to feel the same odd sensation spread through me again. Only it moves slowly this time, lingering. I don’t know exactly how to describe it, but the best that comes to mind is a cross between a tingle and a pinch. Both at the same time. On the inside and out. I feel it shiver across every cell traveling from fingertip to heel.