the sweetly scented killer

flora

I've only thought about having sex a few times in my life. I always saw sex as reproduction. That when Our Grandest Father made us, he wanted us to have a way to reproduce that was intimate and provided closeness. And when it worked, he used it when he created the humans.

But then I aged and watched the humans regard sex as something scandalous and sinful. It surprised me, since it was something their creator wanted for them to do. I learned the way sex is, well, sexualized. And I was interested. Curious. The humans praise sex more than they praise their maker. I wanted to know what it was like. Feel what the humans are always glorifying. I wanted to touch myself.

But I didn't. I never did. I didn't want to end up like the humans--hooked on something intended to be so natural and intimate. I didn't want to become blasé toward sex or sexual activity the way the humans are--creating clubs so that one may see another person with little to no clothing. Addicted to websites where you watch people abuse their ability to interact with each other sexually. Forcing it upon someone who just doesn't want it. It crazes them. When tempted, they can't resist. It puts them back into a savage state, and they become less human and more...animal. I frowned upon this. I didn't understand how beings of "God" could take something so sacred and turn it so crude.

And then I met Seth.

I met this man who moves with the ease of a painter in possession of a brush. Who intimidates any person he lays eyes on. Including me. Whose touch can make me alert and my heart tickle my chest with delirium.

And then he touched me the way he did tonight and I immediately wanted more. I wanted him to bury himself inside me and look in my eyes focused on me, and only me. Even if it wasn't pure. And that's when I realized that I looked upon the humans and their libidos prejudiciously.

I thought they were being foolish and savage about sex while now I find myself hooked.

I didn't realize that I'm constantly thinking about Seth's body under his clothes. About what it'll be like for him to pleasure me, and to pleasure him back. His hands on untouched parts of my body. His breath against my bare skin and our bodies against one another in our most natural state.

At his mercy. Putty in his hands.

"It doesn't say how they died," he looks over the paper again.

We're still talking about this?

"Hm," I hum and frown in response.

Seth lifts his head slowly to look at me. He cocks his head to the side and blinks a few times. "You're not sad?"

"Oh, heavens no, I'm devastated," I pull my eyebrows together. Apparently this wasn't very convincing. My husband takes a few steps toward the bed and turns me by my legs to face him. Those icy blue eyes survey my face while his arms rest sternly on either side of me. I lean away from him a little, still making sure not to reveal my bare chest.

"You did this, didn't you?"

"I haven't a clue what you mean."

"Come on, Flora," he grins wickedly at me. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Your three sins? Three sisters?"

My innocent expression falls while I look deeper into his eyes. His smile gets wider. "They always treated me like the ugly ducking. Siding with mother and Fauna when they wanted to give me the short end of the stick. Avoiding me and giving me dirty looks when we had to interact. Like I'm some kind of disease. They didn't deserve to live their high and mighty lives." I shake my head and look past him. "They didn't deserve it." It's about a minute before my eyes meet Seth's again. "Are you disappointed?"