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November, 2005
„Why do you have to do that to me? Don’t you have any shame?!”
Alice was leaning against the bed post, clenching her fingers tightly round the neck of an almost empty bottle of beer, a desperate edge to her slurred voice.
She had been drinking since the early evening.
It showed.
“Why can’t you take them somewhere else? Don’t you care at all?!!” Alice choked out in strangled tones. Aggressively, distraught.
There had been too many of them in the last couple of days, showing up, doing their deed, mechanically, and leaving again ultimately. She should not be spared from what he thought he needed to put himself through to feel something, anything really, to be part of some obscure greater existence. He wanted a witness to confirm his efforts, for better or worse. It was downright awful. Hearing him struggle, frantically and despairing over and over again to be left with an ambivalent sense of satisfaction. Fleeting, transient.
Now he was standing there in his wretched stage outfit, a white shirt, the first few buttons undone as usual, and some plain jeans that were already sagging a little around his hips. He stared at her icily while the left corner of his mouth turned up condescendingly.
“Oh yeah, you hated every minute of it, that’s for sure,” he said in a dangerously low tone throwing her a dismissive glance. “Don’t be such a hypocrite!”
He was starting to undress himself, a sombre and slightly ridiculing expression on his face, his gaze never leaving hers. Alice, horrified at what he had suggested, made a desultory attempt to sit up straight, yet failed, and sank back.
“Why....why do you have to be so horrible?!” Her voice trembled. “This is NOT appropriate!!!”
“If it’s appropriateness you’re looking for, you should have started much earlier”, he replied in a threatening tone, staring at her almost accusingly.
His watchful gaze lay heavily upon her, nearly breaking her defences.
Alice felt the blood freeze in her veins, and it all came back. The more she wanted the pictures to leave her, the more they invited themselves, entangled her, and reminded her of all the things done and said, better left to the realm of the unspeakable.
And there was nothing anymore to conceal.
As he was standing there, bare-chested, a forbidding figure that didn’t bear any resemblance to the man she knew and loved, everything came back.
Alice’s face crumpled up and she tried very hard not to burst out in tears.
“Cry already, for God’s sake”, he moaned, cold and derisively.
That’s what those drugs did. They brought out the worst in people. She was drunk, but his behaviour was a whole different matter. Sam was cruel now, painfully honest, and lacking every bit of warmth that usually came so easy to him.
The demon on the inside had raised its ugly head, and it would take some time to appease it.
“I’m not responsible for your frustration....no wonder you can’t stand me fucking all those guys next to you!” he chuckled mean-spiritedly as he looked downwards, fumbling with the zipper of his jeans.
“Or maybe I am....,” he ventured, raising his eyes all of a sudden, meeting her gaze, “.....responsible.” He grinned at her viciously, and slowly took off his trousers. “Well there’s something we can do about that”. He kept staring at her in a way that could not be interpreted easily while in a matter of seconds the corners of his mouth turned down again.
And it all came back to her, and she remembered how it had all started, why it had started.
Sam was standing in front of her, immobile, sweating all over, despite the coldness in the room, in his underpants revealing a half-erected penis.
And Alice remembered.
She remembered a time when she was an almost post-pubescent teenager, deep in the troubles of her own life. Sam had comforted her back then, as he always would; more so than he probably should have. And now she had to pay.
But what did they know....?
He could have known. He chose not to.
“Turn round, go down”, he told her, his voice icy and heavy with ambiguous desire. And she knew what he meant.
“No....don’t.......,” Alice said in a constrained voice, much higher than it usually was. A desperate and futile attempt to prevent the inevitable; looking for recognition, for something that reminded her why she had once taken this decision, never really regretting it to this day, although she thought she should. Yet, she could find no indication, no hint whatsoever.
There was no denying that she was getting increasingly aroused at the sight of him towering above her. And this one was as good as any, wasn’t it? Was it worth fighting it? Slowly those all too well known powers took hold of her again and started their perfidious game of justification.
She wanted him. This much she knew.
“Turn round and go down”, he commanded once again, stroking his penis underneath the tight fabric, unabashedly. “I promise I will be relentless!” he said, grinning at her humourlessly.
That’s what meth did. They could go on forever and ever. But what it took out was shame and any remotely sympathetic touch. All that was left were the menial parts that so often and so easily won out.
Alice took one last begging look at him, not knowing exactly what she was pleading for, then turned round hesitantly and went down on her knees because he had told her so. Suddenly the drowsiness was gone, and every fibre in her body was on alert.
She had waited too long.
Soon she felt her brother at her back, bending his upper body over her, and embracing her midriff. She could feel his warm breath against her neck and wanted to die. He was holding her closely, tightly clasping her in his arms and she couldn’t help it. “I missed you,” she said under her breath, relieved, yet embarrassed, and still knowing it was all true.
Sam replied by biting her neck playfully, and pressing his lips to her right cheek, brushing her slightly with his stubble. He hadn’t shaved for a while.
She could feel a slight shift in his sentiments, if just a slight one.
And in an instant it was all gone again.
And all she could feel now was his erection throbbing hard against her butt cheeks. Guided by the most basic, primeval instincts she pressed her vagina against his cock which made him chuckle in a most amused manner. “So easy, so loose,” he whispered, his lips still close to her ears and his voice dripping with irony. “What would you ever do without me?” It was nothing more than a mumble as he continued vigorously kneading the firm flesh of her hips and rubbing his cock against her sex.
“And now we’re getting down to business,” he purred, tugged at her pants and slid them down her thighs quickly. And before she realized, he had shoved his cock deep inside of her, letting out a deep, raspy gasp. Alice cried out in agony, the walls of her vagina contracting, not expecting the sudden intrusion. Sam shortly paused in his movement, half aware of the conflict he had caused, just to continue ever more forcefully, tightly holding on to her hips with his warm hands, while thrusting and grunting in an animalistic way that made it very difficult to imagine that there was anything else to this man than that.
But there was. She knew.
Alice’s only focus was on the warm unmistaken feeling slowly spreading in her stomach, while Sam was thrusting continuously. She listened to herself moaning and sobbing alternately. She could feel her vagina dripping with wetness, all too willingly letting him inside. As she always did. Eventually, he would get his way.
There was no other place she could go right now.
But over the edge.
And she went there.
Breaking out in tears as he finally went there too, breaking down above her, breathing heavily.
Now he was very close to her again and the only thing he whispered was, “I showed you how it’s done, didn’t I?” Yes, he did. He always would, no matter what. Unrequested answers to questions never asked.
Had she asked?
And then they never spoke about it again before almost 10 years had passed.
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