Well, the meeting with my professor went really well! He's keeping my story for the women's shelter here - so "manipulated and controlled" women can read it. He also recommended I send it in to literary journals to get it published. I decided I'm going to post the story...any criticisms are welcome (sorry to Jared and Jennifer - one of whom I know has read this way too much, and the other who may have) 
Nothing Intimate About It
December, 2003
You are on your stomach on the floor - your face flattened into the plush carpet. I am straddling the small of your back, delicately tracing over your skin as precisely as a five-year-old doodling in a coloring book. "Stay between the lines." My fingers have never been good about obeying rules. I am tempted to roll you over right here and now. I want to roam over something other than a backside, but unfortunately neither of us has the energy at this point.
I know I promised you a backrub. You've given me more than a few over the past two days. Your hands nearly always put me into a drunken stupor, and I've become less bashful about my cravings for them. I think it's reached the point where simply thinking about a backrub relaxes me - your fingers kneading the thickness on my hips; your tongue like sandpaper along my spine; your digits in my mussed hair, on my forehead, nose, and lips. It's all exquisite.
But right now I am too tired. I gently lay my body down and match up my arms and hands over yours. I bury my head into your back. Our legs fall into a perfect match as our feet hook together.
"Do you want me to move?" I ask, and my voice is muffled by our skin.
"No, it's comfortable."
So I stay, secretly listening to your breathing and trying to synchronize mine with it. I want to remember just how you feel and the timing of your breath. I don't want to forget when you're gone.
***
"Can you come down here?" you say. I wake up, realize I've dozed off and drooled a bit on your back. I know it, and you know it, but I still pretend like it never happened. I am concerned that you want me to move because I am crushing you with my weight.
But you reassure me. "Just hold me these last few minutes before I have to leave."
And I have to say goodbye to you again.
April, 2004
Your toes curl around my foot and awaken me. I roll onto my side facing away from you; your arms swallow me from behind. I can feel your wet breath on my neck. I know what you want.
My eyes shut tightly. I pretend to fall back asleep. I dont want you to know Im awake.
But youre too sharp for that trick. Your right hand moves up from my thigh. Fingers dance across the soft skin around my belly button upwards towards my breast. You twist my nipple. I can feel you pressing against my ass.
I used to like this. Now, I just want sleep.
You have other things in mind. You know what scares me?
Whats that? I ask.
Just being close to you like this still turns me on.
Why does that scare you? Stupid question. It scares you because youre afraid I wont buy into it and fuck you.
Its never happened quite like this with anyone before.
Yep. Youre afraid. Thats why youre feeding me these lines. I nod and lay there hoping something stops this situation from going where I know its going.
Im doing this because I still care about you, you explain. This isnt going to change anything. Were not going to get back together.
I know.
I know being intimate with you isnt really intimate. Im just another ex-girlfriend who you manipulate now. I know were not going to get back together. My mom says I just agree to this to keep you close, and that never works. I know you dont mean what you say about caring about me.
Do you still want to do this?
I pause for a moment, like I always do before answering your questions.
Yes.
You let out a low moan. A fire ignites in your eyes and the pace of your breath quickens.
Give my cock a kiss. This is your code language for suck me off, you just cant come out and say it. I pull you out from your boxers and obey.
***
An extraordinarily long amount of time passes. I blank out and shut my eyes while I work. I hear you talking. You say something about a threesome. Im not interested.
When I open my eyes I see your thumb resting at the base.
If your lips touch my fingers, you say, Ill take you in the shower.
I dont want to go in the shower, but I want to please you. My mom is right. I do want to keep you close. You were my world for 9 months.
So I try. Failure. I try a few times more. Still unsuccessful.
That feels good. Try again. You can do it.
I feel your hand at the back of my head forcing me down. I swallow my pride and take it all in. I try to keep from coughing, but all my insides are revolting against me. This embarrassment is the last thing I want right now. I gag and cough. Hard. I pull my mouth off you and sit up.
Its okay, you did a good job. Youre almost encouraging and sympathetic. So, how bad do you want me to take you in the shower right now?
I thought too soon. Really bad.
The futon is comforting and so I stay laying down as you get up and walk into the bathroom. The hiss of the shower calls me shortly before you yell, Are you coming?
Youre already undressed and in the shower when I open the door. You poke your head out from behind the shower curtain to watch me strip, and I can see the beads of water that collected on your fuzzy face. I recall how your beard always smells like Japanese soup served at sushi bars. I never remember the name, so I just call you Spongy Bits after the floating particles in the soup.
You shoot me an intoxicating smile and I start to undress. I undo the button on my pants and gingerly wiggle out of them. Your eyes are fixed on me as I remove my underwear, followed by my shirt and finally my bra. You dont say anything when Im done; your head just retreats back into its shell. I walk through the steam to the shower and step in.
Were standing face to face now. Naked and wet. We used to kiss at this point, but my lips frighten you now. Lips mean commitment; what were doing isnt about commitment. Its just lust for you. Its something to do when youre bored and a way for me to keep you in my bed. I cant sleep alone.
To avoid kissing me, you pull my head back by my hair. I feel your teeth on my neck. They move; you nibble my ears.
The wall of the shower is cold when you press me up against it. My hands grope the walls for something to hold on to when you slam into me.
All I can think is, I never thought I was one of those girls who would do this. Im worth getting to know. Im not just a sex-object.
But to you I am just a sex-object.
You tell me to orgasm. You almost demand it and call me a whore.
Do you like it when I call you that? Do you like being my whore?
Yes. No, not really. I liked being your girlfriend. I liked being someone you loved and respected.
And then its over.
You lean into me, and I hear your panting. You bury your head in my neck. I want to throw my arms around you like I used to.
When you move from between me and the shower I feel the scalding water against my cool skin. I close my eyes and let the water run over my face. I rub my eyes.
Ooh! Stop! you say.
I lower my hands and gaze into you. Youre focused; you pull a black eyelash from my cheek and display it proudly at the end of your finger. You tell me to make a wish and set the rules.
You have to wish for something youd normally wish for, and you have to tell me.
I think:
Just hold me. I loved hearing you say that. Id collapse on top of you and stay there while your chest pushed me up and brought me back down. I could hear your heart beating, and I paid attention to the gurgling language of your tummy.
I close my eyes, make a wish, and blow the eyelash from your fingertip.
So whatd you wish for?
Again, I pause.
I wished being friends goes over well. I wished it could go back to how it was, before you.
Alright, well now I may go for a bike ride before I grab some chai with the lovely Amy Doll
Nothing Intimate About It
December, 2003
You are on your stomach on the floor - your face flattened into the plush carpet. I am straddling the small of your back, delicately tracing over your skin as precisely as a five-year-old doodling in a coloring book. "Stay between the lines." My fingers have never been good about obeying rules. I am tempted to roll you over right here and now. I want to roam over something other than a backside, but unfortunately neither of us has the energy at this point.
I know I promised you a backrub. You've given me more than a few over the past two days. Your hands nearly always put me into a drunken stupor, and I've become less bashful about my cravings for them. I think it's reached the point where simply thinking about a backrub relaxes me - your fingers kneading the thickness on my hips; your tongue like sandpaper along my spine; your digits in my mussed hair, on my forehead, nose, and lips. It's all exquisite.
But right now I am too tired. I gently lay my body down and match up my arms and hands over yours. I bury my head into your back. Our legs fall into a perfect match as our feet hook together.
"Do you want me to move?" I ask, and my voice is muffled by our skin.
"No, it's comfortable."
So I stay, secretly listening to your breathing and trying to synchronize mine with it. I want to remember just how you feel and the timing of your breath. I don't want to forget when you're gone.
***
"Can you come down here?" you say. I wake up, realize I've dozed off and drooled a bit on your back. I know it, and you know it, but I still pretend like it never happened. I am concerned that you want me to move because I am crushing you with my weight.
But you reassure me. "Just hold me these last few minutes before I have to leave."
And I have to say goodbye to you again.
April, 2004
Your toes curl around my foot and awaken me. I roll onto my side facing away from you; your arms swallow me from behind. I can feel your wet breath on my neck. I know what you want.
My eyes shut tightly. I pretend to fall back asleep. I dont want you to know Im awake.
But youre too sharp for that trick. Your right hand moves up from my thigh. Fingers dance across the soft skin around my belly button upwards towards my breast. You twist my nipple. I can feel you pressing against my ass.
I used to like this. Now, I just want sleep.
You have other things in mind. You know what scares me?
Whats that? I ask.
Just being close to you like this still turns me on.
Why does that scare you? Stupid question. It scares you because youre afraid I wont buy into it and fuck you.
Its never happened quite like this with anyone before.
Yep. Youre afraid. Thats why youre feeding me these lines. I nod and lay there hoping something stops this situation from going where I know its going.
Im doing this because I still care about you, you explain. This isnt going to change anything. Were not going to get back together.
I know.
I know being intimate with you isnt really intimate. Im just another ex-girlfriend who you manipulate now. I know were not going to get back together. My mom says I just agree to this to keep you close, and that never works. I know you dont mean what you say about caring about me.
Do you still want to do this?
I pause for a moment, like I always do before answering your questions.
Yes.
You let out a low moan. A fire ignites in your eyes and the pace of your breath quickens.
Give my cock a kiss. This is your code language for suck me off, you just cant come out and say it. I pull you out from your boxers and obey.
***
An extraordinarily long amount of time passes. I blank out and shut my eyes while I work. I hear you talking. You say something about a threesome. Im not interested.
When I open my eyes I see your thumb resting at the base.
If your lips touch my fingers, you say, Ill take you in the shower.
I dont want to go in the shower, but I want to please you. My mom is right. I do want to keep you close. You were my world for 9 months.
So I try. Failure. I try a few times more. Still unsuccessful.
That feels good. Try again. You can do it.
I feel your hand at the back of my head forcing me down. I swallow my pride and take it all in. I try to keep from coughing, but all my insides are revolting against me. This embarrassment is the last thing I want right now. I gag and cough. Hard. I pull my mouth off you and sit up.
Its okay, you did a good job. Youre almost encouraging and sympathetic. So, how bad do you want me to take you in the shower right now?
I thought too soon. Really bad.
The futon is comforting and so I stay laying down as you get up and walk into the bathroom. The hiss of the shower calls me shortly before you yell, Are you coming?
Youre already undressed and in the shower when I open the door. You poke your head out from behind the shower curtain to watch me strip, and I can see the beads of water that collected on your fuzzy face. I recall how your beard always smells like Japanese soup served at sushi bars. I never remember the name, so I just call you Spongy Bits after the floating particles in the soup.
You shoot me an intoxicating smile and I start to undress. I undo the button on my pants and gingerly wiggle out of them. Your eyes are fixed on me as I remove my underwear, followed by my shirt and finally my bra. You dont say anything when Im done; your head just retreats back into its shell. I walk through the steam to the shower and step in.
Were standing face to face now. Naked and wet. We used to kiss at this point, but my lips frighten you now. Lips mean commitment; what were doing isnt about commitment. Its just lust for you. Its something to do when youre bored and a way for me to keep you in my bed. I cant sleep alone.
To avoid kissing me, you pull my head back by my hair. I feel your teeth on my neck. They move; you nibble my ears.
The wall of the shower is cold when you press me up against it. My hands grope the walls for something to hold on to when you slam into me.
All I can think is, I never thought I was one of those girls who would do this. Im worth getting to know. Im not just a sex-object.
But to you I am just a sex-object.
You tell me to orgasm. You almost demand it and call me a whore.
Do you like it when I call you that? Do you like being my whore?
Yes. No, not really. I liked being your girlfriend. I liked being someone you loved and respected.
And then its over.
You lean into me, and I hear your panting. You bury your head in my neck. I want to throw my arms around you like I used to.
When you move from between me and the shower I feel the scalding water against my cool skin. I close my eyes and let the water run over my face. I rub my eyes.
Ooh! Stop! you say.
I lower my hands and gaze into you. Youre focused; you pull a black eyelash from my cheek and display it proudly at the end of your finger. You tell me to make a wish and set the rules.
You have to wish for something youd normally wish for, and you have to tell me.
I think:
Just hold me. I loved hearing you say that. Id collapse on top of you and stay there while your chest pushed me up and brought me back down. I could hear your heart beating, and I paid attention to the gurgling language of your tummy.
I close my eyes, make a wish, and blow the eyelash from your fingertip.
So whatd you wish for?
Again, I pause.
I wished being friends goes over well. I wished it could go back to how it was, before you.
Alright, well now I may go for a bike ride before I grab some chai with the lovely Amy Doll
VIEW 14 of 14 COMMENTS
x_doug_x:
oh and that last comment was my 800th. how special do you feel?
x_doug_x:
if you make a comment on the boards, it tells you the number, but if you post in a journal or a group it doesnt, i had just posted in a group and it was 798 before my two to you.