Addiction/Affliction {M.Healy}

greed/consent

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The following morning was one of those mornings to relish in; one of those rare opportunities when the sun is out, highlighting every bit of nature and archietecture in its full, truthful, glory. I sat on the bay window of my living room, my knees brought to my chest, the coffee in my lap the only thing warmer than the sun at this moment.

Last night, my study of Matty had gotten much deeper than I intended it to ever go.

Everything was quiet and soft and dream-like; the birds chirping heard from the crack in the window my side was resting at, the coffee percalator hissing from in the kitchen, Hannah's soft hums and George's slow, steady snores coming from her bedroom.

Last night, Matty had undressed every bit of clothing from my body, and asked me to get on my knees and crawl to him. Without question, I had done what he wanted.

I am uncertain if I ever actually fell asleep last night. My legs were shaking, still, when I got home, my body feeling like I was under the influence of an intense pharmaceutical drug. My mind was both busy and blank; I laid on my back in my bed, my brain flooded and dried, never being able to latch onto a thought for more than a few seconds.

Last night, I had wanted to take Matty in my mouth the moment I had reached him when I crawled to him. He would not let me.

The warmth of my apartment, and the sun against the window, was now aiding in drying my hair as I brought the coffee cup to my lips, trying to make sense of my actions, to make sense of my life. Never had I needed a man so badly; not even close.

When I had showered this morning, my eyes widened in shock, but my lips curled into a smile as I looked over my body, the body that Matty had all to himself last night. There were rosey-purple splotches on my neck, my collar bones, the inside of my thighs. When my fingertips grazed the sore spot my neck, I swear I felt him bite the flesh all over again. The delicate folds between my legs were still swollen, still tender, as he'd left them.

Last night, the tie that once hung loosely from Matty's neck was brought to my wrists and tied against itself as I shook, more in anticipation and need than in fear.

My body was exhausted, but my mind had never been so alert as it was now. There were so many details about this world, if you just paid attention. The tips of the leaves were just beginning to morph into autumnal colors: browns and golds and reds. There were three kids of birds I could see.

Last night, after Matty had tied my wrists together above my head, he'd laid me down on his bed. His mouth spent about ten minutes teasing me, kissing and licking up my legs, my abdomen, followed the shapes of my nipples with his tongue but did not quite touch them yet.

A gurgling sound was coming from my stomach; signifying a basic human need: hunger. I thought of basic-level psychology, and how people's emotions develop. For example, you cannot expect a person to be able to love you or respect you if they do not have food, shelter, etc. It is interesting how, as humans, when we feel emotions, they seem so complex. Yet when they are put into basic words, they seem so simple.

Last night, I had begged him to touch me, my words drawn out and breathy, my body pressing itself against his fingers, his mouth, his cock. He had made me wait.

I had no plans today. Perhaps I would watch a film tonight with Hannah. Perhaps my Dad would want to play tennis. Perhaps I should get a pedicure, the plum shade on my toenails was chipped.