A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 4 - The Gift

I stood there paralysed. My eyes wide open, gaping dry mouth. My heart raced a million seconds per an hour as I got dizzy from the lack of oxygen. This isn't good, I'll pass out if I don't take a breath. "I...I..." The words were hindered by a huge lump formed in my throat. 

What truly shocked me the most was not the sight I had uncovered, but the fact that he didn't stop. His eyes stayed fixated on my frightened expression, a wicked smile played on his lips as though it increased his motivation. The blood drained agonizingly from my face with each aggressive stroke – no satisfied moans, nor heavy breaths, only an intense stare which unreservedly immobilized me. I had to do something. Anything. But what? I didn't have time to ponder what action to take, I could tell he was reaching his climax and I did not want to stay for the ending. 

"I'm so sorry," I squealed before sprinting down the hallway in a panic and securely locking my bedroom door.

In and out, I repeated in a frenzy, my lungs clogged as I desperately gasped for oxygen to alleviate the tightness in my chest. It was the first time I had seen a man relieve himself. Chris and I rarely experimented in bed. I wouldn't necessarily call our sex life 'vanilla', he treated my body with respect and conveyed his love through actions of care and tenderness. Howbeit, due to my sexual inexperience, I had obtained a vastly naïve perspective on other erotic activities. 

Simply, I was petrified and unable to fathom a reasonable reaction. Noah seemed so enthralled by what he was doing that my being there only made it more thrilling for him. There was an indisputable darkness in his eyes which I couldn't erase. I don't know how I will ever be able to look straight into his eyes after that. The unfortunate mental picture was forever engraved into my mind.

FOUR HOURS LATER:

I groggily made my way to the kitchen, each footstep heavier than the last. Just my luck. Noah was already there eating pancakes and sausages for lunch. A monstrously ghastly combination – it's parallel to tastebud suicide, the pineapple on pizza kind. Luckily, he hadn't noticed my presence yet. I silently tried to retreat to my bedroom, taking small light steps, my back facing him.

"Did you get a good look?" He pried cockily. My head snapped back, his eyes compulsively peering into mine. There is no doubt in what he was referring to. I inhaled sharply, restoring my serenity and dignity. If I must play his game, whatever it may be, then acting oblivious is probably the best course of action. Chris' warning popped into mind, "it's best not to give him a reaction, it feeds into his ego."

"What do you mean?" I answered apathetically.

"You heard me," he stated ambiguously whilst biting into a pancake.

"Still not following you." I tilted my head slightly to imitate confusion. His expression grew grim.

"Too big for ya to remember, huh?" He displayed a type of arrogance that would appear sexy to some women, but I am not one of them.

"Your Tiny Tim doesn't interest me in the least," I retorted smugly.

"His name is Big Noah and we've had some memorable times together."

"Look, I don't want to discuss what happened earlier. I'd prefer if we forgot about it," I divulged irritated.

"Whateva helps ya sleep at night, love." His sarcastic tone invoked the vein in my forehead to throb. 

This guy's a real piece of work. I trudged pass him to the kitchen cabinets and climbed on top of the counter fully aware that Chris stored my cereal on the highest bloody shelf, despite the multiple times I've demanded him not to. I grumbled quietly whilst helplessly reaching out to the cereal on my tippy toes, wobbling occasionally.