Something Other
(PRE-REALEASE PREVIEW) Chapters 1 - 3
CHAPTER 1
Lady parts - it’s undeniable that they look pretty bizarre. I wonder if they weren’t so taboo, would they seem as strange? Maybe it’s because we go to such great lengths to keep them covered. Perhaps if we were more accustomed to seeing them, they wouldn’t appear so alien.
Of course guys don’t have it any better. Their situation isn’t just more awkward looking, I would go so far as to call it inconvenient. I’m sure it’s not just me who thinks it a serious design flaw to have such sensitive bits dangling around outside of the body.
I wonder . . . do they ever accidentally sit on them?
I had zoned out, which was a terrible habit of mine. People generally thought me rude because I didn’t pay enough attention to what they were saying. Others whispered that I was weird, because when the teacher would call on me, I’d look lost and have to ask for the question to be repeated. More than once I’d been called a snob, because apparently when deep in thought, I’d catch a serious case of resting bitch face. All of the above was just a small contribution to why I felt socially awkward on most days.
My attention snapped back to reality as the guest speaker for our life skills class, Miranda Something, from the Family Something Council, drew a large circle on the white board.
“Imagine, this is a tiny pin prick in a condom that you were using for ‘protection’.” She actually made air quotes with her fingers as she said the word “protection”.
Miranda then drew a smaller circle. “In comparison, this is how large a single sperm is.” She added a little squiggle for the tail. Last, she made a tiny dot. “Next to that, this is how large the AIDS virus is. So obviously, there is nothing stopping these from getting through there. This is yet another reason why the safest form of protection from pregnancy and STDs is abstinence only!”
I looked around the room at my peers. Many of them appeared pale and sickened, though that was possibly still the lingering effects of watching the horror slide show of genitalia stricken with extreme cases of herpes, gonorrhea, and other STIs.
Frankly, I wasn’t surprised at the use of scare tactics. I lived in the Bible belt, where it was unusual to be educated fairly on the durability of condoms, let alone on how to actually put one of those things on a guy.
For goodness sake, how are you supposed to do that!? THAT is going to be an awkward moment. And what is a girl supposed to do while a guy is putting it on himself? It seems like it would be rude to stare, so should I look away while he is tearing open one of those shiny little wrappers? Should I try to help, or would it make that weird moment even more awkward?
In my usual first-time fantasies, everything happened smoothly. I imagined there being a perfect transition between making out and having sex. Unfortunately, in that fantasy, I hadn’t quite worked out where the guy slides one on without ruining the vibe. As for real life, I wasn’t a complete idiot.
If it is ever going to happen, there will be protection. Awkward or not, I’m sure I’ll get over it.
I let my eyes pan over the room once more. It seemed everyone was persuaded by Miranda’s tactics. Okay, maybe not Jack or Ben in the back of the room. They appeared to be having a difficult time muffling their laughter as they swapped jokes. If the teacher hadn’t moved my seat weeks ago for “inappropriate behavior,” I probably would’ve been laughing right along with them. Of course, Mrs. Jenkins gave them the stink eye, as their antics hadn’t gone unnoticed, but apparently the teacher did not want to interrupt our esteemed guest speaker in order to reprimand them.
I sighed.
Do abstinence-only education advocates genuinely think this is going to work? Can they actually keep lusty teens from having sex by working this angle? Most of these people have already done the big IT anyway. Seriously, Jessica in the third row looks like she could pop out a kid at any moment, so this class definitely isn’t helping her much. If they honestly want to prevent teen pregnancy and STDs, maybe these sex talks should tell people our age that it’s counterproductive to wear more than one condom at once, or at least mention that birth control doesn't always work when you’re taking antibiotics!
The only reason I knew so much was from talking to girls like Jessica. Most of my peers would probably learn that stuff later in life, because they typically treated their pregnant classmates like pariahs. And of course, masturbation hadn’t even been brought up at all as an alternative to sex. I read somewhere about a politician who once tried to promote teen abstinence by encouraging masturbation. Sound logic or not, her political career went into a tailspin after that.
I propped my chin into my open palm with my elbow on the desk. I suddenly felt tired of all of it. I had my own reasons for not getting laid yet, of course. Though at that point, I was beginning to lose sight of just what they were, exactly. Originally, I was just trying to make it to the age of 16 before having sex. Despite the ever-present push from modern day feminism attempting to normalize women’s sexuality, I had the idea stuck in my head that it was the magic age where losing it wouldn’t be too promiscuous. Though not long after I turned 16, I convinced myself that I should wait for the “right guy,” whatever that meant. It had been two years since I made that resolution. I had turned eighteen in November, and wasn’t sure how I had managed to hang on so long. I had loads of opportunities. Just never with the right person at the right time.
I used to think I was holding out for love. Secretly, I yearned for that knock-you-down, take-your-breath-away feeling of being lost in another person. Or at least I once did. Recently, the concept of someone else having that kind of power over me was kind of scary. I was also beginning to think it wasn’t a particularly realistic thing to hope for. It wasn’t as though I thought I’d never find love, but many people struggle to find the genuine article in their lifetime. Plus, I worried that when I did, it wouldn’t be all magical like I had hoped anyway. With both my sexual frustration, and my impatience growing, I was basically ready to settle for less.
Maybe it would be fine to just find someone especially attractive? No, probably not. What about someone who makes me feel safe, not just some douchebag out to get in my pants?
I suppose what I actually want for my first time is for it to be some kind of something special. I deserve that much right? Of course I do! I owe it to myself. But damn it, being a virgin is seriously overrated.
I had zoned out yet again. Miranda had passed out pamphlets to the class. I glanced at a few of the titles. One read “101 Reasons for Abstinence.” Another was titled, “Why Waiting for Marriage Makes Saying 'I Do' Harder to Undo.”
Miranda then resumed speaking emphatically. “Imagine that making love is like a wonderful cake you’ve baked for someone special. Now imagine you are on your way to bring that special person their cake. Say you run into some people who each ask for one piece. What if you said yes? You then give each person a slice of your cake one after another, and by the time you reach your special friend, the cake you made them is no longer beautiful or whole. Now it’s been hacked apart and left a mess. You wouldn't want to do that to your special someone would you? It’s the same way with sex before marriage. You should want to present your future spouse a whole and intact gift that is meant only for them.”
Before I could control the impulse, I blurted out, “Bullshit! You can run out of cake, but you can’t run out of sex! And for that matter, maybe your special someone would enjoy ‘your cake’ more if you have prior experience baking!”
Jack and Ben burst into boisterous laughter and many other students in the room followed suit. Mrs. Jenkins cleared her throat in the most admonishing way she could muster. “Celeste, are you looking for a trip to the dean’s office? You need to watch your language, and please keep any future outbursts to yourself!”
Miranda, looking incredibly annoyed and put her hand up toward Mrs. Jenkins, interrupting with her thick southern accent. “It’s all right.” She then cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes at me. “It’s a shame that a young woman, such as yourself, would choose to express herself in such an unbecoming manner. Society often believes such things are a sign of poor breeding and even lower intelligence. A word of advice; in the future, if you find yourself incapable of expressing yourself with civil words, you may recognize it would be far more ladylike to remain silent.” She glared at me with an air of self-righteousness.
I raised my eyebrows.
My classmates' amused mutters and whispers filled the room.
My temper completely dissolved my ability to keep my mouth shut. “Actually, I have a rather diverse and extensive vocabulary, coupled with the mental acuity to employ it properly and effectively. However, I personally have always regarded it as dishonest to say something ugly by painting it with pretty words. I suppose I consider myself to be more straightforward than that. But I can certainly understand why someone of your--” I looked her up and down with disdain, “--caliber, would make such simple ASSumptions.” When I was through speaking I sat back in my chair and gave Miranda a lasting look of defiance. I kept my eyes locked with hers, undaunted by her outrage.
“That is more than enough, Celeste!” Mrs. Jenkins gasped out almost desperately.
The room was filled with hissing noises and smothered laughter. One kid whispered to another in embarrassment, “What does acuity mean?”
Miranda opened her mouth to fire back, but the term “saved by the bell” never rang so true until that moment. The signal for class's ending erupted throughout the school. I shoved the pamphlets into my book bag and slung it over my shoulder in one smooth swing. Miranda gave me a searing glare as I strode past her, and I returned her look with an ear to ear smirk, because I could think of nothing cleverer to do.
Jack declared as he and Ben caught up to me, “Killer timing, Celeste, you couldn't have planned it better.”
Ben then cut in, “Yeah, gingers have all the luck. Just like leprechauns. It’s just too bad you guys don’t have souls.”
“Ben! That is not true and you know it!” I spoke with intentionally wild eyes. “In fact, every freckle on my face is like a merit badge for a soul I’ve stolen.”
“Ooo. That means I’ve got one too then.”
He pointed out a freckle on his arm, nearly imperceptible against his smooth dark skin. He then plopped his skateboard to the ground and to slowly glide alongside us down the hall.
I smirked. “Is that from that time Jack sold his soul to you for a bag of potato chips in geography last year?”
“Can’t be,” Jack said. “It was only a six-month lease for half my soul.”
“Was not.” Ben snapped.
“Was too!” Jack kicked at Ben’s board trying to trip him up with a laugh. “I saved my copy of the contract.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m almost sad that we didn’t get to see that lady completely wig out.”
We stepped out of the air-conditioned building into the Florida heat and humidity, which felt similar to cannonballing into a hot bath, and I was grateful that, for once, I wouldn’t have to walk home from my bus stop in it. As that thought crossed my mind, I scanned the chaotic crowd as we drew near the student parking lot.
I was looking for Diana, my short and saucy best friend since kindergarten. I spotted her making out with a guy against the wall by the gym. She had him pinned, with one leg up on his hip. His hands were wrapped around her back in a respectful region of her torso.
“Who's that?” Jack inquired, sounding wounded.
I lowered my voice.“That's her new boyfriend. She met him a couple weeks ago at karaoke night.”
“Man, I know we were only going to prom as friends, but is she gonna ditch me now that she is seeing someone?”
I shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her about that yourself.”
Jack responded with a grumble and a sigh, while pushing his trendy black frames up on the bridge of his nose.
Ben gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder and said, “We'll see you later, Celeste.”
They departed toward the student parking lot, and I kept walking toward Diana and her boyfriend, Jeremy. As I closed the gap between us I cleared my throat loudly three times to get their attention. “Okay y'all, we get it. Sucking face is super awesome.”
She pulled away, grinning. He stared at her like no one else was around. That moment reminded me how grateful I was that she had him, and that she had finally moved on from her controlling ex.
Jeremy gently thrust his pointed chin into the air in my general direction. “Hey, Celeste.” His kind face smiled warmly, lighting up his pretty boy features. He then raked his fingers back through his sandy blond hair, as he looked down affectionately at Diana again.
Diana turned around and gave me a big warm hug with her tiny frame. “Hey girly!” Her baby browns were alight with mischief as she squeezed my ribcage a little too hard.
“Hey, Hun.” I bent down a bit to hug her back.
“Ooo, I wanna get in on the action!” Our friend Marie came bounding up from out of the crowds and nearly tackled us, adding to the embrace.
“Hey sugar!” I said, hugging her back.
Some stereotypical jock walking by, whistled and shouted, “Woo-hoo, lezzy threesome! Can I watch?”
We collectively rolled our eyes, and flipped him the bird.
Marie shouted, “Girls-only party here, jerk off!”
Jeremy, still not accustomed to our rowdiness, stood there idly and scratched the back of his head.
I paused for a moment to take in Marie’s buoyant behavior. She seemed especially whimsical that day, with her thick black hair in pigtails, and vibrant-colored clothing. Her Filipino flag lanyard clacked with her movements as it was laden down with at least ten adorable little keychains.
“So, what are y’all up to?” Marie asked, coming up for air from our layers of arms.
I straightened up and shifted my heavy bag. “Jeremy was gonna give us a lift over to Diana's house so we could watch a campy zombie flick and work on our Biology project.”
“Um, actually,” Diana chimed in. “Jeremy got called in to work tonight to cover for someone, so he doesn't have time to hang out. He could still give you a ride home though.
I could hear the engines of the fleet of buses across campus taking off and going their separate routes. “Good, because it’s definitely too late for me to catch my bus.”
Marie looked at her flip phone and then off toward the parent pick-up lot. “Yeah, I should go. My mom is waiting.”
“Okay then, we’ll see you later, Sugar! You ready to go, Celeste?” Diana picked up her book bag off the ground. Jeremy wordlessly took it from her and slung it over his own shoulder. They held hands as they walked.
“You both are too sweet… It’s gross,” I teased.
“Well, if we are making you sick, you can always walk home,” she sassed back.
As we were walking I spotted Liam leaning against his car, talking to a cluster of his friends. His arm was around his on again, off again girlfriend. My heart skipped a beat. The bright sunlight made his brown hair shine with blond highlights, and his sultry brown eyes glinted with gold. I let my eyes linger on him for too long as he stood there with that charming smile, all tall, lean, bronze skinned, and gorgeous; definitely a healthy-looking specimen of a male.
He looked in our direction, then waved and smiled at Diana. I made sure to look away quickly, pretending to be unaware of his existence, before I let out a slight whimper.
Diana knew my completely screwed up feelings I harbored for him. She rubbed my shoulder soothingly. “You're pathetic.”
I rolled my eyes, and then playfully swatted her butt.
That’s when I heard my name called.
Not from a distance. It was said low and soft, almost like someone was right next to me and intimately spoke it into my ear.
I stopped in my tracks, and turned a full circle looking around. No one was in immediate proximity, and everyone nearby seemed to be minding their own business.
Now I’m hearing things? I instinctively touched my ear as my eyes flicked from person to person, looking for a possible source of the voice.
As my inquisitive look went completely ignored, my mind could come up with no better explanation than I simply had an invisible stalker. Amused by my own absurdness, a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I then turned back around to catch up to Diana and Jeremy.
We made our way through the parking lot toward Jeremy's late model Mitsubishi. It was sleek and shiny, his high school graduation present from the previous year.
I rode in back. Diana sat shotgun next to Jeremy. The stereo made it difficult to hear anything they were saying. I felt like a third wheel.
The drive to my house was long. I figured they were taking me home first so they could have a little alone time after dropping me off.
I leaned forward and spoke loudly over the music. “You know, Jack is wondering if you are still going to prom with him.”
Diana looked annoyed. “Well, he can put on his big boy panties and talk to me about it if he wants to.”
“I know. That’s what I told him.”
She sighed, sharing a brief look with Jeremy. “Anyway, I’m going to figure something out that will work best for everyone. I made him a promise, and I will do my best to keep it.” Jeremy seemed mildly annoyed at this declaration.
They dropped me off at the mailbox in front of my family’s old house, nestled in the shadows of mossy oaks on the bayou. I headed up the walkway, taking only a brief pause as a harmless garter snake slinked across my path.
Diana and Jeremy had pulled away by the time my hand touched the knob on the front door. When I opened it, I felt a blast of cold air from the AC wash over me.
It smelled a bit acrid, as usual from the many litter boxes that occupied the spare room off the foyer. Three of moms most recent rescues immediately began to snake around my ankles, in attempts to con me into a can of wet food. Several of the other cats, 11 total, languidly looked on from various perches around the house, gracing every plush covered surface with a fine layer of cat hair.
The house was relatively quiet except for some stock sound effects coming from the living room TV at a low volume. I followed the sound. My kid brother Brandon was already on the couch playing video games. I stood in the doorway experiencing a brief flare of jealousy, because I didn’t think it was fair that his middle school for the gifted let out so early.
He flicked his blond hair back out of his face. His pale blue eyes remained fixed on the screen with intensity. Like usual, he was sitting hunched over. It was no wonder since he was so ridiculously tall and thin. I figured he did subconsciously to fit in better.
I nudged him over on the couch forcefully, chasing off Whisky, the cat who was lounging there. I picked up a controller. “Hey, save your game and go into battle mode.”
“I can’t save here. You’re gonna have to wait.”
“Come on,” I said in the whiniest, most annoying voice I could manage.
“Just a minute! Jeeze.”
I stared at the screen impatiently for a solid minute before feeling inspired to annoy the crap out of him. It started with one large over-exaggerated sigh. I then waited a moment and followed it with another and another. Each became more dramatic, and I made sure to put my body into it. The last one I draped across his lap bumping him obnoxiously.
“Damn it Celeste, don't you have homework to do or something?”
I threw a couch pillow at him and declared loudly, “I’ll do homework after you satisfy my challenge on the battlefield, good sir!”
“All right, all right! Just a sec! I’m almost at a save point!”
I gave him one last over emphasized sigh.
“Okay, done.” He began going through menu screens to select battle mode.
I chose my favorite avatar, which was one of two female characters in the game. We played multiple matches. He won most of them with ease.
“So, where is Mom?” I asked.
“She’s in bed.” He responded flatly.
“Okay.” I pressed my lips together firmly and took a minute to assess the situation. “Well, we should probably cook dinner tonight. Do you know if we have any spaghetti?”
He grunted “Yeah, I think I saw a can of sauce and a box of pasta in the cabinet the other day.”
We went silent for a little while in concentration and I nearly got the upper hand on him in that battle. However, he pulled a sneaky teleportation move and came up behind my avatar with a finishing blow.
I let out a frustrated growl and threw the controller at him.
“Ouch! Hey, you know you don't have to be such a bitch, right?”
I took a deep breath before I let out a genuine sigh. “Come on, we've got stuff to do.”
At that, we got up and went about doing some daily chores. He went to the kitchen and pulled out the fixings for dinner. I grabbed the vacuum and went over all the carpets in the house; except for mom's bedroom. He then emptied the dishwasher, and I fed the cats. I dragged my overstuffed clothes hamper from my room and got some laundry going, then popped the frozen beef into the microwave to defrost. Brandon lost at a quick match of rock paper scissors, so he was blessed with the pleasure of cleaning out the litter boxes. After I took out the trash, I went to put my book bag in my room, reminding myself that I had homework to do later.
I took pause to stand in front of the mirror over my bedroom dresser. My thick, wavy, copper-colored hair was a little mussed from the long day at school. I took it down out of its ponytail and smoothed out some of the frizz before I put it back up.
Stupid humidity.
I then scrutinized the rest of my appearance vainly. My skin looked pretty clear. I picked for a second at an annoying spot on my chin that might’ve been a zit starting. I then stared into my emerald green eyes for a moment, wondering if I should bother to wear mascara more often. With it my eyes looked big and round. Without it, my light eyelashes lacked definition against my pale skin. I thought that made me look plain, and maybe even boring. At least the trail of freckles sprinkled over my cheek bones brought a little life back to my face.
I turned sideways, visibly measuring the thickness of my middle area. Not bad, but I sucked in to admire how much better I would look by shaving off a few inches. I turn a few more times eyeing my curves.
I gave my armpits a quick sniff before picking up the stick of deodorant on the top of my dresser. I popped off the cap and struggled with the tiny nub of deodorant left in the stick as I rubbed it on my underarms. I reminded myself to ask my mom again to pick up some more.
I turned to assess the messy state of my room. A plum colored armchair that matched the grey and purple theme of my room was draped in clothes that didn’t make the cut for any of this week’s outfits. The bed was unmade, with sheets and blanket rumpled on the floor. School papers and sketches were strewn about. At least I had the dirty laundry in the wash. I decided I would have to deal with the rest of the mess later.
Suddenly, for the briefest of moments, I didn’t feel alone. I had the strangest sensation that someone was watching me. I scanned the room suspiciously as I tried to shake the strange feeling. Of course there was nothing out of place, so I carried on with my chores.
I had dinner nearly ready when dad wandered in the back door, looking tired, but cheerful. Seeing his mild mood relieved a little tension that I didn't realize I was holding in my shoulders. “Hey guys.” He whistled for a moment, then took off his shoes by the door and unbuttoned the collar on his corrections uniform.
“Where is your mother?” he asked with a quick and pointed curiosity.
Brandon and I look at each other. I hesitated a moment, before answering. “She’s in bed.”
Dad responded with a slow blink, but his blank stare was quickly overcome by a look of determination. He began to whistle again, and proceeded down the hallway toward their bedroom.
After about five to ten minutes, Brandon and I had finished making dinner and set the table for four. I made a salad to go with the spaghetti. Mom and Dad wandered out of their room. She looked tired, but smiled as she shuffled her feet in some slippers. She was still wearing her nightgown and bathrobe. Her long red hair was disheveled, like it hadn't yet been brushed.
“Dinner looks great, you two,” she said. It was obvious she was making an effort.
Dad looked somewhat satisfied from getting her up. We all said a quick grace, and were all quiet for a while after that.
Dad broke the silence with the usual evening formalities. “So how was school today?”
“Same ol’, same ol’,” I answered.
“Yeah, ditto,” Brandon echoed.
It was silent for a little while longer before my mind wandered to a question I had been working up the courage to ask them. Since they were both there, and in fair humor, I figure it was as good a time as any.
“I was wondering…” I paused as they looked up from their plates towards me. “I was wondering if for graduation, I could maybe have a bonfire party with my friends in the backyard . . . if that would be okay.” I held my breath. I hated asking them for anything.
There was a brief moment that they considered before mom spoke in a soft, contemplative tone. “Yeah, I don't see why not. What do you think, Robert?”
Dad slowly nodded. “I don’t have a problem with it. As long as you kids don't get too wild. I don't need a bunch of drunk little assholes throwing up in the bushes, and people's parent's getting called, and showing up to yell at us…” He took another bite of his dinner. “Or the cops for that matter.”
I stared at my dad out of the corner of my eye while scratching my head. “Wait… Are you saying that you would be cool with us drinking beer back there or something?”
“I’m saying you are pretty much an adult now and you are responsible for yourself, your friend's behavior, and your own choices.” He finished chewing his bite of food and swallowed. “And should you choose to drink back there, do it responsibly and no one drives home after they drink.”
“I know that, Dad.” I considered that for a moment. “Would it be alright if I set up some tents out back? Like a campout? That way no one would have to drive anywhere.”
He sighed. “Yeah, that sounds like it would work.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Thrilled, I grinned wide to show my gratitude.
I helped clean up after dinner as usual, doing the dishes and putting away food, then played on my tablet as I waited for my turn to shower. Mom and Dad headed to bed after their crime show was over. After putting on some comfy shorts and a tee to sleep in, I pulled a couple of books from my backpack. I wedged the intergalactic epic that I had just finished reading for a second time into its place on my overladen bookshelf in the corner of my room. I then crawled into bed with the latest volume of a medieval dragon tamer fantasy that Diana had just lent me.
After a few chapters worth of lingering in a world where good and evil were clearly defined, I turned out the light and lied there, hoping sleep would claim me without hesitance.
Instead it was just me and the darkness. Everything was still and quiet. Occasionally the house shifted with a snap or settled with a creak. From time to time a cat would jump off a counter, punctuated by a small sharp thud as paws hit the floor. The AC kicked on for a time before shutting off once more. I soon realized I was having trouble sleeping again.
So I let my mind wander. At first I imagined myself as one of the dragon tamers in the book I had just been reading.
When I got bored with that I tried to recall the dreams I had the prior night, reliving and embellishing on the best parts I could remember.
Eventually a particular element rose to the surface of my ponderings. A someone; A beautiful someone to be precise. Heartbreakingly so.
I didn’t know where I first saw his face. I figured he must have been a stranger in a crowd, or a random attractive nobody I once passed on the street. More than likely, he was some foreign megastar that I had probably seen on a short news clip. I must have seen him, not realizing at the time what a lasting impression his face made on me, not knowing then that he would inspire many secret fantasies. Or maybe he was purely from my mind, an apparition from a dream I no longer remembered.
Wherever the idea of him came from, he seemed familiar to me. Like I knew him somehow but had merely forgotten.
He was the male embodiment of perfection in my eyes, which certainly made it more likely that I dreamed him up. And since it was my fantasy, and I could do whatever I wanted, I imagined that he looked down at me with complete adoration, and devotion.
I felt a heat in my body just thinking about him.
I pictured him leaning over me, touching his fingertips to my lips sensually, before running them over the rest of my body. He kissed me, and then moved his mouth down the side of my neck.
As I became more immersed in my dreaming, I slid my hand down into my panties to touch myself. I pretended my actions were his own.
Yet I could not shake a nagging frustration.
With a lamenting sigh, I quarreled with strong emotions knowing that I could never truly satisfy the insistent hunger my body was feeling. I wanted sex. Real sex. I wanted a guy! More precisely, I wanted the man of my dreams and fantasies, and I felt intoxicated by this need.
As I continued to touch myself, I toyed with a screwed-up idea.
If a man like that were to show up in my room right now, in this moment, would I turn him away?
I realized I wouldn't care about his agenda, or whether or not I was his treasure. I knew scratching that impossible itch on my own was only a mere shadow of all the possibilities making love to man had to offer.
With that thought, my fantasy transformed. I imagined he was in my room right then, no longer with eyes of adoration, but a look of complete lust on his perfect features. He wanted me, and why was completely irrelevant, because that was how badly I wanted him back. I slid my fingers into myself, and began to gently nudge it inward feeling the pressure from the inside, and trying my best to imagine it was him, like I so wished it was.
I could almost feel him touching me; almost feel his hands on my body. I nearly felt his teeth nipping at the skin on my collar bone, his mouth on my breast. When I climaxed with the intensity of it, I swore I could feel his breath on my face.
I flipped over onto my front for better leverage and I continued to massage myself. I wanted to go again and knew I could have at least another two with relative ease. I felt his hands grab onto my hips, pressing me to him tighter. I climaxed again. But I didn't stop. I imagined his arms wrapped around to my front, grabbing my breast in one hand and claiming ownership over me in the most intimate way with the other. For a moment it almost felt real. I finished with a third, before collapsing face first, breathing heavily into my pillow.
The strange voice from earlier called my name again so clear, I could feel the warm breath of the word upon my ear.
Still on a chemical high from my orgasm, I laughed aloud, contemplating whether I had actually gone insane. I continued to lie there, slowly coming down from my elation. Despite the growing worry I had for my sanity, I became lethargic, and before long, I succumbed to sleep.
CHAPTER 2
I awoke that morning with a start. My body jolted in response to the alarm clock going off again. I focused my eyes on the glowing numbers.
Shit! I’m going to miss my bus. Damn it! I must have kept hitting the snooze on my alarm.
I scrambled. “Shit, shit, shit!”
I hurriedly dressed in my favorite black tee and some denim shorts. I then grabbed a pair of socks, and my hair brush from off my dresser and threw them into my book bag before shoving my feet into a pair of canvas tennis shoes. I snatched up my deodorant from my dresser and was too aggressive uncapping it. The tiny nub of deodorant fell onto the dresser top and crumbled into small bits. I growled in response to the rotten luck and gathered up the chunks with my fingertips before smearing them best as possible into my arm pits. I then ran frantically down the hall swiping some fruit from the kitchen as I headed out the door.
I cut across the front lawn instead of sticking to the sidewalk, needing every ounce of time I could scrape up. I felt the early morning dew cling to the canvas of my shoes, making them feel damp and uncomfortable without socks as a buffer. I kept running. I had about a half mile to my bus stop and my bus could come any minute. The last thing I wanted was to miss it and have to wake up Mom to ask for a ride. I would much rather skip school for the day. My sides started to hurt. I hated running. It was the most unpleasant form of exercise to me, because strangely enough, I valued the feeling of being able to breathe. Still, I ran on. Once I had the bus stop in sight I considered slowing down to walk and catch my breath, but the roar of the bus engine coming down the road eliminated that option. I continued sprinting toward the stop, and made it to the steps of the bus a good five seconds after the last person had boarded.
Ms. Holly, the bus driver, gave me a pat on the back as I stumbled past her, exhausted and sweaty. “Cutting it close today?” I didn't have enough breath to answer her. I just sort of grunted and nodded, before I shuffled to the back where ‘my seat’ was.
My two favorite freshmen were seated in front of me looking pleased. “We were wondering where you were.” Jamie said, then added, “Glad you made it.”
Ashlynn tilted her head to the side, taking in my appearance with a blank expression on her face “You look like hell.”
I squished up my face at her. “Gee, Thanks.”
I half-listened as Ashlynn started up a chat about the latest issues on feminism. Slowly my breathing returned to normal, and I went about the business of finishing getting ready for school. I put on my socks, brushed out my hair, and ate a banana. Afterwards I pulled out my emergency toothbrush kit, which on more than one occasion proved to be a valuable item always kept in my backpack. Having no other option, I had to spit the paste out of the bus window into traffic.
As conversation between the girls petered off, Jamie stared out the window at passing scenery, and Ashlynn pulled out a mystery novel to entertain herself.
So, I pulled out my journal, a typical composition notebook I had decorated with a collage of various clippings. For the rest of the ride to school, I wrote about the vague images I could still remember from my dreams the previous night. In the margins, I sketched a pretty good likeness of the mysterious dream guy I had conjured up. My chest felt heavy with loneliness.
Our bus arrived at school, and I parted ways with the girls wagging my finger in their direction jokingly. “Now you both behave yourselves today, alright?”
They both smiled. Ashlynn turned to Jamie and muttered, “Shouldn't someone tell her that?”
I wandered through the crowds in no big hurry, but mindfully kept my eyes ahead with the intention of emanating a purposeful sort of hostility. It was an act of dominance. Somehow, it kept people from bumping into me in the halls, which often happened if I stared at my feet. Likewise, if someone didn’t get out of my way, sometimes I would intentionally let our paths intersect, hard. I didn’t do it to be an asshole, as much as I did it to avoid being a victim. Unfortunately, I’d learned acting weak could make me a target. My best defense was a good offense.
Out of some coincidence with this train of thought, I spotted some freshman kid sitting in a quiet end of the hallway by himself. His head was in his hands. There were few people in the area. I slowed down, wondering what was wrong with him. Then I noticed a group of large guys nearby laughing. It was that nasty kind of laugh where you could tell someone was the butt of their joke.
I didn’t recognize these guys, and couldn’t tell for certain what year they were, though they were mostly tall and muscular, dressed like wanna-be thugs. I paused out of curiosity. The kid on the floor wore jeans torn beyond what was considered trendy, and an old scruffy t-shirt didn’t quite qualify as so-lame-it-was-cool.
I heard a ping and noticed a nickel spinning around on the floor. Then a penny bounced off the boy’s head and hit the floor with another plink.
Those assholes were getting some kicks by throwing change at the kid.
I felt a wave of rage take over. It was hard to see straight. All the sound that I could hear turned into white noise. I threw down my bag and stomped over into the center of the group.
I swatted at one guy’s hand full of coins. They all flew and hit the floor sounding like metal rain. I then shoved him and shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! You can’t just fucking treat people like that, you ass-hat!!”
I then realized that I was craning my neck upwards at these guys. Suddenly, I felt like a Chihuahua barking into the face of a Great Dane.
Someone behind me said, “Can you believe this bitch?” Their eyes were wide, some of them with amusement, and one or two with serious irritation. No one had said anything else, but the guy whose money I had knocked on the floor took a step toward me. I stood my ground and narrowed my eyes at him. I then widened my stance ready to do whatever was necessary.
All of the sudden, I was upside down looking over someone’s backside and the floor was moving beneath me. I heard a mirthful, “Excuse me. She'll be coming with me now.”
I gave a halfhearted pound of my fist into his back. “Dammit Adam, I didn’t ask for your intervention!”
“So, I should just watch as you get the snot slapped out of you?” He said calmly as he carried me away down the hallway.
“I could have taken him!” I was still shouting.
I glanced over at the kid who was so dejected a moment ago. He had a new look of awe on his face. Adam barked a laugh as he swooped down, snatched my book bag, and continued his march with me still dangling over his shoulder.
“You can let go of me now!” I snapped.
“Nope.”
I growled, exasperated. I could probably make him, but I didn't want to hurt him, or myself in the process.
We were in the next hallway before a teacher saw us and roared, “Hey! Put her down!”
And with that, Adam plopped me on my feet and handed me my bag. He then smiled down at me condescendingly, and patted the top of the head. I waited till the teacher had turned around and walked off. I then swung my leg up in the air sideways to plant a restrained kick to Adam’s butt. Alas, it didn't work. He snatched a hold of my foot and I was stuck balancing on one leg. I stuck my tongue out at him.
“A little bit early for you to be looking for trouble,” he taunted, before releasing me.
I was still shaking a little bit from my anger.
“Yeah well, I have to get a head start if I want to break my record for shittiest day ever.”
“That bad?” he asked, lacking any actual concern in his voice.
“Not yet, at least.”
“Then quit your bitchin.” He somehow smiled with a hint of condescension.
I laughed a little, and then sighed, allowing myself to calm down.
We continued our walk toward our usual morning hangout spot. Out the doors we went, and down the front steps. Our friends were gathered in a group, standing next to a statue of West Pensacola High’s school Mascot, Salty the pirate.
I spotted our friends. Ben was showing off with his skateboarding to a couple kids I didn't know well. Charlie was trying to match his skills by doing tricks with his wheelchair. Marie, Jack, Patrick, Felicia and Levon stood nearby watching them, and chatted amongst themselves.
Diana was off a little ways away talking to Jeremy, who must have brought her to school. It looked like they were arguing.
“Uh oh, trouble in paradise so soon?” I commented as we joined the others. “What’s that about?”
Everyone just kind of shrugged at me.
“Not sure yet,” Marie muttered.
It wasn't long before the cheerless couple exchanged a somber kiss, and Jeremy headed off toward his car. His pace illustrated to me how upset he still was.
Diana slowly approached the group. She locked eyes with me hesitantly before looking away after Jeremy.
When she reached the group she kind of stared at her feet for a minute.
I grilled her. “Okay, what’s up? What’s going on?”
“Yeah, why so blue short-stuff?” Jack added.
“I’m not exactly sad,” Diana answered, and then shuffled her feet a moment. She looked back up but didn’t look at anyone in particular. It felt like she was trying to avoid eye contact with me. She bit her lower lip. “I got my acceptance letter to Columbia yesterday.”
There was a clamor of congratulations projected at her, and Diana smiled with only the faintest glimmer of guilt still in her eyes.
I remained silent for a moment until the general praise tapered out. I then walked over to my best friend calmly and wrapped my arms around her shoulders in a bear hug that I could tell took her a little off guard. I spoke low into her ear, “Congratulations. You have worked very hard, and you deserve it.” I released her slowly and backed away.
Diana thanked me gravely. She knew my heart had just broken, confronted with the reality that she was leaving, that everything we knew would be ending in a handful of short weeks.
I could feel myself begin to shut down. It was like being washed over by a wave of lethargy. As a result, everything around me became almost blurry and hard to take in.
Someone asked about Columbia being in New York. She responded about that being the appeal, and how she looked forward to living in the big city. It was her dream school.
Somebody else asked what that meant for her and Jeremy's relationship.
I zoned out further, but someone eventually nudged me on the arm and asked “You all right?” I faked a smiled and nodded.
Eventually the bell rang and we all shuffled off to our classes.
I didn't feel like talking much. I hardly paid attention to my lectures for the day. When I got to algebra I realized I had not remembered to do my homework the night before. I grew even more depressed, as I made a last-ditch effort to finish some of the questions and hoped it would be enough for at least partial credit.
Maybe if I had done more of my homework I could have gotten into a good school too. Maybe I would have bothered to apply anywhere if there was any hope.
I put my head down on my desk and sulked.
I’m not even sure why I try anymore. It’s too late to turn things around.
The best I can hope for my future is attending community college, burdened by a mountain of student loans, struggling to work, and taking classes full time.
The weight of it all made my chest feel heavy and tight, while my heart beat too rapidly. It was difficult to keep my breathing at an even pace.
I was having an all-out anxiety attack.
Well great, just what I needed today.
“Hey, Celeste.”
I woke from my dejected stupor. I was in lit class. We had a last-minute substitute teacher. She didn’t have a curriculum to teach, so she was little more than a glorified babysitter. We were allowed to use the class as a free period.
Was someone talking to me?
I looked up.
Holy shit, it’s Liam! Why is Liam talking to me?!
He stood there with a friendly smile on his face, and his hands in his pockets. He just wandered over to say hello because he was that type of person: friendly. I stared at him completely wide eyed, dumbfounded. I’m sure I even looked a little hostile, even. I was taken completely off guard, and couldn’t muster anything, ANYTHING, to say at all. After that agonizingly long moment of silence, and me being a complete idiot, his expression became bewildered. With wide eyes, he nodded his head, as though acknowledging his mistake in speaking to me, and backed away.
I averted my eyes to my desktop as I painfully restrained the impulse to slam my forehead down on it repeatedly.
STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID . . . What the hell is wrong with me?!
I kept my eyes on an open book in front of me for the rest of the period. I didn't care what it was. I wasn’t reading. I was reliving that painfully awkward moment over and over in my mind.
I drifted through the rest of the day still on autopilot. We ran a mile in gym class, which was awful. My stomach ached until lunch from hunger, barely satiated from the fruit I ate. And in art, I accidentally spilled my ink tray all over the project I had been working on for two weeks.
A rain cloud of self-loathing followed me everywhere, making it hard to see the people and events happening around me. Before I knew it, I was getting off the school bus and walking home in blistering heat. The sun was high, and my black shirt was soaking up its heat. The electric sounds of cicada calls echoed eerily from the treetops. I walked slowly through shady patches of road on my way home and quickened my pace between them. It was a relief to make it in the front door to the AC. All I wanted was for the day to be over. I fought the urge to go straight to my room, and just go to sleep.
Mom was in the kitchen, pulling out something to defrost for dinner. I felt obligated to stop and say hello. I was glad at least to see her up and about.
“Hi, honey. How was your day?” she asked.
“Hi, Momma. It was...it was survived. Where is Bran-Bran?”
“He's in his room, I think.” She walked out of the kitchen without asking why my day needed to be survived.
I followed her into the home office where she shuffled through some papers on the desk. “Diana got into Columbia.”
“Oh? That's nice. Please congratulate her for me,” she said with little interest. She wandered out of the room again, this time to the living room.
I sighed and decided I shouldn’t bother trying to engage her in conversation anymore. Then I remembered I needed to ask her for some more deodorant since I broke the last of mine that morning. I followed her once more. “Momma? Are you going to the store anytime soon? I am out of antiperspirant and need some more.”
Her demeanor went from zero to sixty in half a second. “Jesus, Celeste, I just bought you some! What the hell are you doing with it?!”
Unfortunately, the built-up pressure from my bad day fired back. I knew I was crossing the line as my words shot out. “I don’t know Mom! Maybe I rub it on my freaking armpits! And you haven't bought me any in months!”
Before I could finish spitting out that last syllable, she used her whole body to plant an open-handed smack across my cheek.
I stared at her with a look of contempt while I held my stinging face. I could feel a tight knot building up in my throat, a threat of tears soon to follow, which I suppressed.
Rage burned behind her eyes as she glared back at me. She slapped me again and then a third time, her palm meeting my ear made it ring at the contact.
“Wipe that look off your face!” Then she shoved me, hard enough to make me stumble backwards falling into the armchair. Despite how my veins pumped with outrage, I dared not look at her. I stared at the floor as she loomed over me for a moment. Eventually she muttered something under her breath and walked off.
I stood up slowly, keeping my gaze to the floor, and walked away to my room. I quietly closed the door behind me, then lied on my bed and stared at the ceiling. A feeling of numbness took over my insides. It radiated out from a part of me inside that I was pretty sure had died at some point.
I was still there after about 45 minutes, when mom opened the door to my room. She tossed in a stick of deodorant on my bed, and stared at me evenly. “I forgot to give this to you when I bought it. She gave me a quick smile, as though she had just solved all our problems.
“Thank you.” I said, absent of feeling.
My mother turned and left, closing the door behind her.
She made pork chops for dinner. Dad came home.
Both Brandon and I skulked out of our rooms when we were called to come eat. His eyes briefly lingered on my reddened cheek. He said nothing. I said nothing. We ate our meal in silence.
We cleaned the kitchen.
We took our showers.
Everyone retired to their rooms for bed.
I did my homework, or at least some of it.
Afterwards I pulled out my journal. I meant to just sketch to pass the time, But before I knew it, I had aggressively scribbled black balls of nothing on a whole page. I sighed and closed the notebook.
I crawled into bed, nestled under my blankets, and turned out the light. I unintentionally left on my novelty light, but lacked the motivation to get up and turn it off. It was a frosted globe with continuously shifting colors that swirled and projected beautiful patterns on the walls and ceiling. Watching it soothed me.
As tired as I felt from a long day of stress, I figured sleep would come easy. Instead, my mind wandered, eventually coming to images of the Mr. Perfect whom I had imagined the prior evening. I realized, thinking of him was perhaps the happiest I felt all day. That thought brought along its own pang of loneliness.
I wished he was real. I wondered how he would comfort me. Perhaps he would just hold me for a while. Maybe he would nuzzle his nose up against mine, forehead to forehead in a moment of divine intimacy.
I pictured him kissing me, in the most comforting ways, sensually letting his mouth linger upon mine. He then ran those smooth lips down my jawline and kissed my throat gently.
My ears popped. Immersed as deeply as I was into my imagination, I ignored the compulsion to tug at my earlobe.
I let the fantasy take a more sultry turn, as the beautiful man began to probe my mouth more aggressively with his tongue. His hands wandered to explore more interesting regions on my body. I felt fevered with readiness. I laid there with my eyes closed wishing so hard with all of my heart that he was real. I could smell his sweet musky aroma in my room and sense his firm body against mine.
It was strange, I could actually feel his weight as he lay on top of me. My imagination had gotten so sharp, it was astounding. In an intense moment of yearning, I reached up with both hands to run my fingers through his hair. I felt the silky strands slide over my fingers?
What?
I paused a moment, then grabbed a hold to feel the locks tighten in my grip and scalp resist against the tug.
“Hmm, I didn’t take you for a hair puller,” a voice like satin murmured from the darkness.
My eyes flew open.
There in my bedroom, right there on top of me, was my dream guy, staring down.
CHAPTER 3
“Holy shit!” My voice was tiny, and almost a whisper. I froze like a deer in headlights.
I wasn’t sure if I should scream or not.
Do I really want to call attention to my own nervous breakdown? Surely, I have gone insane.
Whoa, he is so… beautiful.
No longer was he this hazy image in my mind, but warm and living flesh with its crisp and defined edges. His hair was straight and black, and fell casually over his forehead as he leaned over me. Feeling his body against mine, I could tell he was long, lean, and muscular in all the right ways.
However, I had a hard time taking my eyes off his face for even a millisecond. I stared at his wide lips for a moment, the way they crinkled at the corners in amusement. My gaze drifted to his almost too-straight nose, accentuating a narrow but strong jawline. His eyebrows were dense but sleek. They trailed off to the sides of his face in a pointed arch, and provided sublime emphasis to each expression. Thick black lashes framed his most disarming feature, his eyes.
Those eyes stared down at me, patient, amused, and curious. They seemed to glow in the dimness of the room, a unique blue-green color. It was like looking into shallow ocean water, the kind I’d seen in ads designed to lure people to their dream vacations. There was something unnatural about the way those arresting eyes subtly reflected the light. Something I’d never seen before. Something . . . other.
I unfroze to take in all the air I could fit into my lungs. That fraction of a shift was all it took to make the light in the room refract intensely through his pupils. Before, I had only witnessed that in cats and wild animals at night. I froze again, biting my lip, and if it was possible, my eyes were even wider than before.
He broke the silence that hung heavily in the air. “Have you decided whether you are going to scream or not?”
“You. . . are not . . . human.” The words left my mouth in a long exhale.
“No. I am not,” he agreed plainly.
“Then what…” I choked. “What are you?” I struggled to keep my breath even and flowing.
He tilted his head to look at me from the corners of his eyes. “The labels have to come out so soon? They always do, I suppose,” he said passively. He then began to delicately trace his fingertips along my neck and jawline, and gently brushed wisps of hair back from my face.
Despite being paralyzed in fear, the faint grazing of his fingertips against my skin triggered shivers of arousal through me.
He spoke softly. “Our kind has many names, some of them nastier than others. In your language, we have been called night demons. A name I never much cared for. Demons have such a bad reputation.” His eyes darted back up and locked in with mine. “However, most people would probably call us--”
“Incubus.” I whispered. As the word formed on my lips, I pressed my head back into my pillow hard, to gain those extra inches of distance between my face and his.
His lips stretched into a wide smile “Oh, indeed, she is clever! Yes, you have the potential to be so very interesting.”
I found that to be unsettling. I had read enough of mythology and lore to know that an incubus was a demon that seduces women while they sleep. I brazenly blurted out my next question without thinking. “Aren’t demons evil?!”
He laughed a little too loudly, with maybe a hint of resentment. “Evil? What exactly is evil?!” His eyes brightened and he shifted his weight. “I'll tell you what evil is. Evil is all a matter of perception. Evil is when someone does something you don't like or agree with. Or maybe something you just plain do not understand. After all, even good people can do true evil with the purest of intentions.” He continued on very matter of fact. “Do I think I’m evil? No, I do not.”
I was taken aback by his philosophical answer. Though my fear had not been forgotten, my curiosity was growing rapidly. I mustered the courage to speak more boldly. “Okay… It doesn't take a genius to gather why you are here, but what in the hell do you want with me? Why don’t you go find some female incubus to roll around with?”
“Succubus,” he corrected.
“Right. Succubus,” I said both a little embarrassed, a little annoyed, and still completely freaked out.
He puckered his mouth to the side. “We can't get what we need from another succubus, or incubus. I’m not here for sexual satisfaction.”
His answer dredged up more lore from the corners of my mind, and was suddenly overcome again with new feelings of anxiousness.
I remember now! “You feed off humans! You take their life force when you have sex with them don't you? Oh shit!” I started to hyperventilate. But I don't understand! Is he here to rape me? I began to lose whatever cool I had managed up until that point.
His eyebrows came together, and he frowned. It was as if my alarm was causing him distress, and for a moment I almost felt sorry that I could cause such a look to linger upon his splendid features.
“Shh-shh-shhh. Please calm down. Please! Your angst is unpleasant,” He winced with his finger resting lightly on my lips, and then promptly sat up and backed off from me completely.
“What?” I snapped, while squirming away from him “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
“Please just calm down, and I will explain,”he spoke urgently. “If I was here to hurt you, I would have done so already, true?”
By this point I was tremendously confused, but the seeming logic in his words softened my growing panic.
He gave me a theatrical look of a wounded puppy, while his fingers went to his temples.
In my moment of freedom, I chose to prop myself up on my elbows. It was the first step in getting up to run away, if need be, though he apparently lacked any intent to attack or restrain me. My heart finally felt less like it was going to escape my body by jumping out my throat. I could see him visibly relax as I felt my own tension ease.
It was at that moment my gaze swept over his body, which was shirtless, but wearing trim black pants.
Whoa, good gravy, that's a beautiful man. I swallowed, and feeling rude, averted my wide eyes to the ceiling. Heat rushed my cheeks.
He took in my expression, chuckled and sighed. “Too much as of yet? I could put a shirt on if that would make you feel more comfortable.” With a wave of his hand and a curling shimming of dark mist he held a fabric garment in his hand, and made the gesture as if to start putting it on.
I started to bite the side of my finger out of nervous habit, while I resumed eyeing his perfect features. In reply, I made a barely audible squeak at him, which was meant to be something to the effect of “Nah, you’re good. You just keep doing you.”
He loosed a soft laugh. “Alright then.” In a similar swirl, the shirt then disappeared again. Now, where were we?” He continued smoothly.
Having witnessed what I could only deem as magic, I decided that I was definitely trapped in a very strange wet dream, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from getting to the bottom of things. “What do you want from me?”
He gave me an alluring smile. “Your pleasure.”
“Um… what?” Nuts. I’m completely nuts. Or definitely dreaming. Or maybe both. I gnawed on my finger harder, hoping the sting of my teeth into flesh would wake me from my bizarre delusion.
“Well, it would be rudimentary to simply say I feed off your life force. I do take in some of your energy, so to speak. To be more specific, I drink in your pleasure.” He allowed me a moment to absorb that idea before continuing. “Human pleasure has a unique energy that is strong and can sustain me. And best, it is a renewable resource. So, when I say you have nothing to fear, it is because there is no benefit whatsoever to me hurting you, and all the profit to gain in making sure you are happy, and enjoying yourself thoroughly.”
He spoke with a sense of sensuality that sent a shiver up my spine.
He reached out and began to delicately trace his fingertips on my skin again, caressing my shoulder and trailing down my arm. He followed the curves of my body with his eyes tenderly. “I also want you to know that I am very, very skilled at making people . . . happy. You see, being what I am, makes me empathic.”
That rang a bell. I had read about empaths in one of my favorite science fiction novels. “Like a psychic?” I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted him to stop touching me. I definitely liked the tingling feeling it left behind. It was such an enticing sensation. Though I felt completely bananas for feeling anything near turned on while so alarmed.
“Mmm, to be specific, I cannot read your thoughts, but I can feel what you are feeling.”
“So, it like, hurts for you when I am upset?”
He pressed his lips together firmly and nodded his head. “It definitely is not pleasant.”
Something in his demeanor told me he would go to great lengths to avoid things that he deemed unpleasant. “Empathy is the most fitting tool to make sure that you get what you need, and that I get what I need, because I cannot be truly satisfied. . .” he leaned in closer so that his lips were just inches from my ear, “until I completely gratify your most visceral desires.”
It felt like I had butterflies fluttering around my ribcage. He was obviously exceptionally talented at the whole seduction thing. “Okay then.” I took in an immense breath, hoping that the influx of air would help clear the fuzzy feeling hindering my ability to rationalize. “Why me then?” I felt like I was asking the same question over and over.
“Why not you then, Celeste?”
I stared at him flatly, resenting his deflection.
He chuckled. “Oh, fine then. If you must know, it was not any single thing. First off, you wanted me, or at least the idea of me. I could sense that. We choose our companions carefully, and they need to be open-minded to our mutually beneficial exchange.” He paused thoughtfully, tilting his head. “You . . . are also louder than most. You were easy to find because I could hear your needs from far away.”
That had me puzzled. “I’m loud?”
“Yes. Quite.” He slowly leaned in taking advantage of my stupor and kissed my neck, letting his lips remain almost too long upon my skin.
There was a reality to those kisses that my imaginings could barely touch upon. My synapses fired in response to the contact. I sharply took in another breath making a hissing sound. I then placed my hand on his shoulder and pressed him back. “You are the voice I heard yesterday! You called my name! How long have you been following me?”
“Not too terribly long,” he said coolly, but his tone turned somber. “Sometimes it was hard to bear. You are often unhappy. If we were not so compatible, I am not sure I would be here. But I made a choice, and here I am. So now, please, allow me to show you what complete bliss feels like.” He leaned in toward me again.
Wow. He is eager to get right to it, isn’t he!
I moved my hand to his chin, covering his sultry lips with my thumb. The action sent a tingling sensation rippling through my gut.
“Hold your horses, Cowboy. I have more questions,” I said, somehow managing to keep my voice steady.
He nibbled on my thumb with a mischievous look in his eye. He knew what he was doing to me. If what he claimed was true, he could probably sense the reaction my body had to his every caress. I let my eyes wash over his stunning features once more. Every inch of him was a work of art. He was the epitome of “my type.” I thought it unlikely that anyone else could possibly find him as beautiful as I did. It’s like he was made for me.
Did I really dream him up?
“You said we were compatible . . .” He patiently let me take a moment to compile the rest of my question. I thought of his magically-appearing shirt. “If you are an incubus, then do you always look like this? Or is this just some entirely illusion you made just for me?” I speculated that he might have a tail and red skin, like the creepy little cartoon devils I saw growing up.
“Oh, your questions are good! You are indeed sharp. I like that.”
Huh? I then wondered if the over-the-top flattery was part of his people-pleasing skills.
“I actually do look like this. Being physically appealing to you is a typical attribute to our compatibility. This way I do not have to expend extra energy to try and please you by looking different.”
That’s good news, I suppose. “You can do that?” Would he do that?
“Yes.”
I pondered the idea, and quickly decided there was nothing to improve upon. Nothing. His eyes glinted and he prowled toward me like a cat, crossing his arm back over my torso. “You want me,” he said without question.
“I um . . . I . . . I don’t know.” I shuddered, suddenly very nervous again.
He breathed with a hint of exasperation, but his expression remained warm. As he blinked quickly, his eyelashes fluttered open and closed like exotic butterfly wings.
“I know you want me, but you need to be certain of your desires. So, I am asking you to take a moment. Figure it out for yourself. This doesn't have to be complicated. I will wait. After you have made your decision, if you want me to leave, then I shall go. It's that simple. And, if you want me to stay--” He trailed off, a confident smile lit up his face.
Oh god, that is sexy.
My mind began to race. There was too much pressure in that moment. It was such an immense decision to make.
He’s not wrong. Obviously, I am attracted to him. He definitely turns me on, even when I’m so nervous. But do I want to lose my virginity like this? He is not even human!
Wait, does that even count then? It's not like he loves me either. Wasn't that what I was waiting for so long? Love and trust? Do I trust him? I have no real reason to trust him, which would make me a complete idiot to follow through with this.
Or, would I be a complete moron for passing up one of the most amazing opportunities of any woman's lifetime? I have a man before me sure to be skilled in pleasing, with promises to excite and pleasure me probably beyond what any other man can offer sexually. His every action will revolve around the simple concept of whether I like it or not... That puts me in a position of unbelievable power.
If I believe everything he has told me so far, and I think I do, then I feel relatively safe. Maybe, that is all I ever truly wanted for my first time. I’ve told myself time and time again, I wanted losing my virginity to be special. This being special would be an understatement!
With that, I had formed my decision, but I couldn’t find the words to say it aloud. My body started to tremble a little from the excitement. And my eyes locked onto his and I could see with perfect clarity that he knew. He waited, looming over me so calmly, with an incandescent smile on his visage to encourage me.
What is he waiting for if he knows my decision?
I then realized he wanted me to declare it, so I would never have any reason to doubt it was my own.
I acted on impulse. Taking hold of his magnificent head, I boldly pressed my lips onto his. That moment felt like a firework and all of my inhibitions started to burn away. I pulled back and released an unsteady breath. “Yes.”
He grinned broadly and leaned in again to kiss me back. Our tongues stroked each other’s with a perfect level of firmness. His fingers wrapped around the back of my neck and he carefully cradled my head. I felt my carnal need grow, broiling inside me.
Everything began to feel more urgent. He peeled back the blankets that were a barrier between us. Once through the layers, he paused and smiled at me, as if to tell me, he liked what he saw. I had worn a tank top and cotton underwear to bed out of sheer laziness. I couldn’t imagine what he found appealing. The thought occurred to me that he looked like a kid about to tear through some gift wrap to get to a present. That idea nearly made me smirk right back at him. With his help, I pulled my tank over my head, exposing my breasts. He admired them briefly, before he sat up and slowly pulled down my panties.
This is real! This is really happening!
I swallowed hard as my mouth began to water with that realization. There was a literal aching in my lower abdomen, and a swelling feeling began to take over my loins. I felt like I might die of anticipation, if not from the nervousness.
Soon his garment was gone. I had missed its departure completely. I suspected that they disappeared with a wave of his hand, or maybe a blink of an eye. He lowered his body down toward my own. I was all too aware of the stiff part of him that pressed firmly against my thigh. I felt like my posture was awkward; I didn’t know whether to spread my legs or to maintain my prudish position until he guided me further through the experience. In that moment of hesitation, I deliberated one final time.
This is supposed to be the part where he puts on the condom.
“What is it?” he breathed.
I then chewed on my lower lip, not sure how to broach the subject.
I was right. This is awkward.
He lowered his lips to my ear and spoke seductively. “What do you desire, my mistress?”
I shivered before responding. “Ummmm . . . could you put on a condom?”
He chuckled and looked down at me with mirthful eyes. “I will not get you pregnant, if that is what troubles you.”
That sounds like a standard line that a sleazebag would use. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Won’t, or can’t?”
“That is a little complicated. Right now, you just need to know that I will not.”
“What about STDs?” I prodded on in paranoia. “Undoubtedly you have been with a lot of women.” I hastily added, “Not that I mind that. It’s just . . .”
“That is also a complicated topic, but I assure you, there is no need to fret. I cannot carry diseases.” He sighed and smiled resolutely. “All of this is irrelevant, of course, because I know you will not be happy until you feel safe. So, I will do anything to make you feel safe.” He brought his hands together, and with an odd gesture pulled them apart. I stared in surprise as a gold wrapper fell from midair into his hand.
He brought the small package seductively to his lips and began to tear the wrapper carefully between his teeth. His eyes remain locked on mine.
Once its precious contents were released, he continued to look me in the eye as he secured it in place with one hand. When the task was completed, he leaned in to kiss me gingerly once more.
That wasn't so bad after all, I guess.
He pulled away again with a measuring look, and then carefully nudged his knee between my thighs spreading them apart. It was evident by his expression, that he could feel my anxiety, which was climbing to a new height.
He paused and his brow furrowed. “This is your first time, isn’t it?” He asked with complete sincerity and sympathy.
“Yes.” I said just above a whisper.
He bit his lower lip momentarily. “I will not hurt you,” he said reassuringly.
“I know.” I said this in part because I knew my hymen was long gone. I had accidentally broke it years ago.
I also realized that I inexplicably trusted this stranger of a man, this curious creature. It was remarkable, because trust was not a thing that came to me easily.
He kissed me again letting his mouth linger softly upon mine, and slowly he adjusted his position, and slid into me. It was the most tremendous sensation, a relief to feel him inside me, quelling the ache of a space that needed to be filled.
I shoved my fingers inside my mouth and bit down to avoid making any outburst.
If I wake anyone up, it might possibly be the worst thing that could ever happen in all existence.
I reveled a bit in how good the pressure of him inside me felt. His size was just enough for a satisfying spread without actually making it sting. He and I were the perfect fit. I shortly pondered if that was another aspect of our being 'so compatible'.
His mouth planted sultry kisses upon my neck. He began to move rhythmically, sliding in and out with deep gratifying thrusts. I was going mad with sheer delight, my insides felt like they were on fire. Already, I was on the cusp of an orgasm. I could feel it tickle around in the back of my mind, begging for me to succumb, but I wanted to postpone it as long as I was able so I could linger in the intense sensation.
He sat up, no longer planking over me, and his hands began to travel. One slid up my torso, resting upon a breast, and then gently massaged it. His other hand moved south, cupping my backside for a moment before continuing its journey down my leg. He closed a grip on my ankle and gently pulled my leg into the air above me. It was a position that didn't feel as awkward as I’m sure it looked. Still, I was grateful for my flexibility in that moment.
He began moving again, and I immediately realized his motives. He shifted slightly to the left and right, soon finding a wonderful place deep inside me. It registered faintly on his face when he found what he was looking for.
It occurred to me his empathic talent was like a radar detector, enabling him to sense when he hit the most delightful places. He continued to glide in and out of me, manipulating that region with his movements.
It took all that I had to keep from crying out. Fortunately, that distraction was helpful with putting off my climax. His hand on my breast then moved down to my lower abdomen. He flattened his palm and then firmly pressed down into my torso. It made the sensation of the tip of him inside me just that much more distinct, and I could no longer hold out.
I went to delightful pieces. I think it was the most powerful climax I’d ever had. No surprise, it left me gasping for breath and curling my toes. The intense pulsing and tightening lasted for longer than usual. My one hand grasped the back of his head, gently tugging his hair in that fierce moment. His eyes rolled upwards in rapture, and he bit his lower lip hard. This was what he was there for. It was what he needed, and it was so gratifying to see him get it, pleasure for pleasure.
When that first overwhelming surge subsided, I was quickly taken by the desire for another. I nearly set him off balance on top of me as I grabbed hold of his hips and began to grind into him. He had little chance to react, but looked pleasantly surprised. It didn't take me long. I chased the spark in the back of my mind, luring me to another climax just waiting to be had. I moved faster and faster. He moaned in response, which in turn amazed me. Soon I had my way, and a second climax sent tiny tremors through my body; I arched into him. My hand slid up his back as he grabbed a fistful of pillow on each side of my head. If it were possible for us to press any tighter together, we did. His brow furrowed, his eyes shut tight and his jaw hung slightly in an expression that looked almost painful. He let out a sound of relief and relaxed. He was spent. I was spent.
He lay on top of me for some time. With urgency no longer ruling my awareness, I basked in the sensation, just feeling his body against mine. We both gradually caught our breath, smiles plastered on each of our faces. There was no doubt in my mind that what just transpired was one of the best experiences of my life. I couldn’t imagine it getting any better than that.
“That was something special,” he mumbled as he recovered. He looked fresher, and more vibrant than before, if that were possible.
I felt wiped out. Exhausted. Sleep seemed like a wonderful idea, but I staved off that feeling to stay in the moment. I nodded at him assuming he said that to everyone. I didn’t care.
He is beautiful. What he did to me was . . . beautiful.
He propped up on his forearms. “No, I am serious, that was . . . You being that loud made it so . . . extraordinary.” He laughed as though he could hardly believe it.
My eyelids felt heavy, my limbs like cooked noodles. “I am so tired.” I said weakly.
“I know. That is normal.” he said with a small sympathetic smile. “Your weariness is part of the exchange. With rest, it will pass.”
I closed my eyes slowly and it took a good deal of willpower to coax them back open. I stared into his shimmering blue-green eyes. They were so earnest at that moment.
“What is your name?” I asked.
His smile grew. “You are welcome to give me one.”
I looked up at him skeptically.
Fine. I’ll play. I closed my eyes. I told myself it was just to help me think. A name sprang to the front of my mind within moments.
“Damien.”
He laughed lightly. “I like it.”
Lethargy crept into my voice. “Someone once told me that it meant demon. I always loved the name despite that.” I murmured, before failing to restrain a yawn.
“Not quite,” he said softly. “Its origin is Greek. It means, ‘he who tames’.”
I smiled at that, without thinking it over too deeply. My eyes were still closed, and before I knew it I had plunged into the depths of the sea of sleep.
***
Hi, I am Serena Rosemore. Thank you for reading my first three chapters! I am just getting the word out there about my book and could really use any like and follows i can get, so I would really appreciate the generosity of a follow! More preview chapters will soon be released as well!
Something Other is currently available for pre-order on Amazon Kindle, and both Hardcover and Kindle will be available to order on May 26, 2026.
