Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Рассказ

Предупреждение -- это всего лишь рассказ, фикция, сочинение, фантазия :-)

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She lays in bed all day - puffy eyes, runny nose, pajamas, and all.  It's the type of cold that's neither here nor there but it manages to rob her of the last drop of energy and desire to stay awake.  Sometimes she wakes up and pretends to read.  Her eyes glide over the text, and she keeps flicking back to the Internet or some other distraction.

Bored and tired, she can't help but go through her internal shit list of things that disappoint her.

Panic ensues and sets off a frantic avalanche of thoughts, all of them can be summed up by just a few words: I fucked up again. She feels trapped, looking for fulfillment in fleeting and ephemeral dreams.  She knows she will never be happy.  Even worse, she will never be satisfied. Her heart bleeds, and tears of resignation burn her eyes.  She fucked up, and she is fucked. She can feel her heart go numb.

He walks in on her staring vacantly into the shiny screen of the iPad.  She looks up and smiles. All of a sudden his body rests on hers. Her neck is laced with kisses.  She doesn't feel anything.  In fact, it feels foreign to her.  He likes physical contact, that's his way of reconnecting.  She doesn't think much of it, simply letting him satisfy his need to feel her, know that she is real. She doesn't blame him; she has been barely available, avoiding spending time with him.  He is preoccupied most of the time she is around, and she acts resentful and passive aggressive by not bending to him when he so pleases.

She waits patiently hoping to get back to her reading or whatever she was doing before she became needed.  

He jolts her out of her apathy by putting his hand on her breast and then moving it lower until he reaches her crotch.  She scrambles to remember when was the last time they made love.  She is fairly sure it's been at least a month.  She is tempted to push him off questioning his motifs -- what is there about a sick woman that he finds so urgently irresistible?  Is it his way to assert dominance?  Establish his manhood??  She goes back and forth for a second and decides in favor of sex.  Looking for excuses, telling herself that she has needs, she forgoes her dignity and lets him in her.   

It lasts longer than usual, and she finds herself thinking of someone else...  It is a good place, where she escapes, but her body senses that it wouldn't be the same.  Her body knows... He pushes especially hard and deep, she cringes and exclaims something that he takes for encouragement, and she moans again, in pain.  This definitely brings her back from her daydreaming...  She arches her back, the sheets bunched up in her clenched fists.  Sure sign that she has climaxed.  Convinced, he focuses on his own orgasm thrusting himself into her faster and faster, and she becomes irrelevant.  At that point, she just stays still for him to come.  His last push is so violent that she can't feel anything.  His body envelopes hers in exhaustion, she quietly rolls from under him and stares out of the window.

Numb, empty, still sick... She wonders whether he has managed to impregnate her, and then she cries.

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