Platonic Mistress Tales: Obsession (573 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.5 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Paralyzed By Hope (View user info) at 2007-12-14 10:30:19 EST
She saw your picture once. He sent it to her. His motive in that, she still questions. You need to be a shadow to her, a figment she can assign flaws, imperfections she believes are worse than her own. But now you are real to her. You can no longer exist in the foggy space of her mind. Real faults are much worse to know than the imagined ones. And now they pick at her brain and, at night, as she lies in bed alone, thinking about the fact that you are with him, sleeping peacefully in her rightful spot, she feels like the air is being choked out of her. You don't realize it, but she is at war with you. Though her battle cry echoes every night to deaf ears, her armor is polished and ready.
You don't see her as competition. She lives too far away. After all, she was the one who moved states away. She left. Not him. And now he's yours. Even though his feelings for her are not gone, you feel safe knowing she is miles away. It gives you the upper hand. A memory only has the power you give it. And you won't give her any more power over him. She has enough already and you're desperately trying to overshadow her with physical intimacy. You whisper in his ear, "I want to rip your clothes off." To which he turns, smiles vaguely, and slightly shakes his head. Clasping your hands in your lap, your chest fills with a heat of victory. But, my dear, the head shake is not a good sign for you. He shakes his head so his desire that it was her whispering in his ear will disappear.
It has become a habit of hers: comparing the two of you. You against her. She knows the blame truly lies with him, that she shouldn't direct her anger and frustration at you, but envy is a hard thing to ignore. The mole on your cheek, the one close to your nose? She hates it. He hadn't really paid much attention to it. Once she pointed it out, he hasn't been able to forget it. It climbs across his skin, makes him shudder, not out of disgust, but out of irritation. She has moles, true. Most everybody does. But he loves the flat, small ones on her neck. He remembers how he would press his lips to them before slipping inside to feel the softness of her. They are as flat as the skin, while your mole juts out bulbous and brown. He jokes now about wanting to scrape it off with his nail. She gasps insincerely before giggling. She smiles and gloats secretly, silently counting the days until she will never have to worry about you.
The hardest part are the things she can't let herself ask. Him sleeping with you, she can handle. She knows that people can distance themselves during sex. She is hoping that's what he does with you. What pierces her heart and bleeds pain through her body is her own imagination. Does he place his teeth over your shoulder and groan, pushing harder into you as if he can never get deep enough? He used to do that with her. Sometimes it felt like he was ripping her in two, but she loved it, every moment enjoying him. All of him would have disappeared into her, but his moan was a combination of ecstasy and agony. They both can remember how he exploded with desire, how she pulled him closer, as if they wanted their skin to melt together. He wanted all of her and they clung to each other, sweat prickling their bodies.
She wants to know if he lays a hand on your thigh while you eat dinner. Does he leave it there throughout the night, as he used to do with her? When he's driving, does he linger his hand on the inner part of your thigh? Just so it barely touches the material of your pants. When you lie together at night, does he run fingers through your hair? When he sleeps, does he throw his leg over you and hug you close to his body? That was what she loved the most. The sheets damp with their sweat, his leg thrown over her body, his arms wrapped around her torso, the skin of his chest touching her naked back. This is what she dreams of each night. This is what she craves in the mornings. These are her moments. Imagining you have stolen them hurts. But her heart aches at the thought that they might be true.
How long you will remain a shadow in her mind is unclear. But you are always there, torturing and patronizing. You are the cloud on the days she dreams. You are the darkness on her horizon.
-
User Reviews
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-12-16 11:35:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-12-16 11:35:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-12-14 23:23:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i like the pic
Submitted by Paralyzed_By_Hope (user info) at 2007-12-14 13:21:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2007-12-14 12:52:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I like it but I'm still confused about who is who.
SHE/HER/HERS: mistress/friend
HE/HIM/HIS: the guy
YOU/YOUR/YOURS: the girlfriend
Does that clear it up? The narrator is technically speaking to the girlfriend (who sounds like she is shit out of luck, I might add). Also, I realize it's getting pretty "womany" and "emoy". It's unintentional.
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-12-14 13:09:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Some of the descriptions are a bit too emo for my liking.
The concept, however, is incredibly satisfying.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2007-12-14 12:52:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I like it but I'm still confused about who is who.
Submitted by triangle_man (user info) at 2007-12-14 12:33:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
this is all so.....womany
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2007-12-14 11:09:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Paralyzed_By_Hope (user info) at 2007-12-14 10:59:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-12-14 10:56:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
where is all of this going? Are you writing this as a first hand account of something you are/have experienced? do you prefer clean shaven balls or freakishly hairy?
I'm actually not very sure where it's going. I'm open to suggestions. And I think it would ruin some of it if it was something I experienced first hand, wouldn't it? Takes all the question out of it. And I've never put much thought into hairy or not. I'll ponder it.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-12-14 10:56:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
where is all of this going? Are you writing this as a first hand account of something you are/have experienced? do you prefer clean shaven balls or freakishly hairy?