Your Pleasure is My Pleasure

To the devil in disguise muffling my screams. 

I never understood desire until I felt your hands around my throat…

He was subtle at first. It wasn’t like everything went dark all at once.   

I admire him from afar. His hands are perfect, so kind and tender as he caresses a knife. He leans in so carefully with each precise thrust. Cutting and breathing steadily, two hearts beat between us. I stare in awe as my disbelief and joy cosmically collide. He wasn’t just pretty. He was unworldly, and vaguely threatening. I wanted to carve beneath his bare skin, peeling away those layers of metal that decorated his body. 

The emptiness of this bar began to fade after our eyes met. There was nothing but sensation left in the air… It was like remnants of my consciousness blended together, stringing me along with thoughts of nonsense. 

His monstrous hands took me in. He grabbed me careless of what surrounded him. His lips barely parted, jaw tensed, I thought he’d tear me open. Digging his fingers into me, prying my chest open. Licking my heart and devouring my soul all in a matter of seconds.

He’s breathing as if he lost his mind. I could do nothing more than stand and wonder if I had just hallucinated. We we’re exchanging mindfucking glares that only rendered half of what our intrusive thoughts were screaming at us. 

He looks away one last time before returning his tenacious stare. This time stronger and more desperate, like he’s dying for a taste. I’m not sure if he wants to fuck me into submission, or choke me until my eyes roll to the back of my head – I thought if distance didn’t exist we’d probably be fucking right now… 

Something shifts between us. I’m back to wondering if I had some lucid fantasy, yet finding it impossible to deny the urge of getting lost in him. And then I flipped a switch despite my racing heart. All my rational thoughts were obliterated as heat rushed through my body. I was approaching my darkest fantasy with the intent of making it my reality. 

He asked me, low and teasing, “Is this what you want?”

One drink, I thought. Just one quick drink. 

An hour later I was on my third tequila, falling for the man with a knife in his hand. His aura was a warm chaos aching to swallow me whole. He was about my age, with medium to long, scruffy black hair and an intriguingly beautiful, but destructive face. A scar pierced his left eyebrow and darkness circled his eyes. His arms were wrapped in tattoos; Japanese graffiti with gothic decor creating a devilish face and a solid, opaque covering of black ink in between. This was the kind of man I craved. He was sex personified… And I wanted to devour his soul. 

“How about another,” the walking assassin said. I nodded. He smiled; a loaded gun aimed directly at my bleeding heart. I saw magic in his eyes. Dirty, dark, beautiful magic. Love at first sight? Boring. Love at first assassination attempt? Hot. I’d bleed for anything if it held me the right way. 

I take a few moments to find my voice, silence consumed us… killing me softly. He puts the blade back in his hand. And suddenly, the word knife rotted in my mouth.

“A knife? Are you flirting with me or starting a fight?” I can’t believe I just said that… Why would he want to do that… He was silent for a moment, contemplating the possible motivations of a saint with the lips of a sinner. I didn’t bother to apologize, or even make up a very convincing lie. He looked my demons in the eye and smirked. 

“You have witchcraft in your lips” 

He said witch like it’s a bad thing. I smirked, tipping my head down slightly. 

So enthralled by his toe curling confidence, I blindly blurted “You’re not as evil as people think you are.” 

“No. I’m much worse.” he answered, narrowing his eyes. 

I think I was flirting with death.

“You’re a little tragedy, aren’t you?” he asked. 

“Everyone is a little fucked up, right?”

I felt spellbound. 

“You have no idea how much pain and poison runs through my veins. I’ll possess you.” 

He shook his head and fell for the very thing I thought he’d fear.

“You are evil. That’s hot.” 

I dropped my chin and looked right into his soul. “We all have demons, I just choose to feed mine.” 

Hours must have passed, it was only the two of us amongst empty stools and trashed tables. I was unsure what we were talking about or where the time had gone. All I knew was that a dark, yet delicate atmosphere surrounded me all because of him. His eyes were getting better and better, and so were his lips – irresistible, really – and I was talking, not just talking but flirting, out of pocket flirting. It was all so muddled – I caught odd sensations, like a strong smell of trapped aromas, the feel of loud alternative music pounding in my chest. I was romanticizing everything, especially my suffering, half tweaked, not grasping the plot at all. We were talking and laughing, and then I got a tour of an empty kitchen. Next thing I knew I was taking his hand into an Uber I don’t remember calling.

His lips were biting mine, coating my tongue with an all too familiar metallic taste. Pressing his body against mine and then his fingers in my mouth. I wanted him to pry me open and lick the blood off my pounding heart. I wanted to be devoured by him. The nonsense was escalating, with every look, every bite, every touch. 

I thought maybe I wasn’t here, in this car with him, like I was in a different place. Maybe a different person. I tried to grasp the situation, to see exactly who and where I was, but I couldn’t get my hands off him. The situation kept slipping in and out of my touch, leaving me uncertain of my surroundings.

He took me to the edge of pleasure, his hands around my neck, and yet I trust them completely. His eyes dilated as if he could only be complete by having all of me. 

Have you ever seen the hell in someone’s eyes and loved it anyway? I think I loved him. Shit. I was falling in love. I wanted to fill my mouth with his name. I wanted to eat him whole. He tasted like every dark thought I’ve ever had. 

Once we made it to the elevator the novelty picked up. I thought I was out of breath but then he whispered, “all the dirty things I would do to you.”

I tried to convince myself with a circle of assumptions; “You want to play dirty? Fine, let’s play dirty,” I wanted to see him lose control. I knew he did bad things… I was just curious as to how well he’d do me. 

I paused and wiped the blood dripping from my lips as I seductively gazed over him. Stopping him from his own benefit. Reaching into my purse, I grabbed a dark, stimulating merlot lipstick. One very convincing cessation of self pleasure. 

He grabbed my waist, pulling me in close, breathing with dark desire, “you believe this is a game, and you may be right. But if you think you can play it better than me… think again.”  

For a moment the love eclipsed my demon’s snaking thoughts. This isn’t me. This isn’t my usual personality. “How did I get here?” I cried. Everything was quiet, except for my own heavy breathing. I felt his hand muffling my screams. I wanted to throw something at him. Anything.

I started to fight, and so did he. He pushed me against the wall and slowly slid his mouth down my neck until I was moaning and gasping for air. 

This new vision waxed and waned over the rest of my body, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. There was a lack of willpower. My superego had been overruled by my subconscious desires.

The tone of my voice put it all into perspective, “listen… nobody smart plays fair.”

“You like that, huh?” he went on… “What do you beg for when you think no one can hear you?”

“To be with you, that’s all I want.” I whispered. “I’m all yours. Love me like my demons do,” the voice said. 

We stumbled out of the elevator. No one was around. Nothing seemed to be going on. You spun me around with lights blinking in the background. 

“Aren’t you going to undress me?” I blurted. 

“Say you’d die for me.” 

His room smelled of cigarettes, rustic and homey.  I was relaxed. I thought maybe, I would… I’d do as devils do, I’d fall. 

“I should be scared of you but for some reason I’m not.”

“Why?” he asked. 

“Because I feel like I could tell you things I can’t even tell myself.”

He inched towards me, stopping my heart. The darkness had spread from the corners of the room. It dragged on the floor between us. “I am comfortable with violence.” All your divine violence. I wanna be loved by you. I wanna get lost in you. I wanna be your addiction. I do not desire mediocre love. I want to drown in someone.

“Let me be your sickening desire.” I heard myself ask. 

“Fine,” he said, nodding his head. I can’t believe I was engaging this man in conversation. 

He wasn’t afraid of my demons and I did not fear his madness. We saw beyond those things that life does to a person. Underneath the worn layers were two beautiful, destructive souls that just wanted to be loved. 

It all started to pick up speed. He was all seven of the deadly sins. Wreaking havoc on my soul.

His hand gripping my throat, he asked again, “What do you beg for when you think no one can hear you?” I stared at him, speechless, hungry for his taste. His pause was oppressive.

“What do you beg for when you think God can hear you?” My tongue pressed to my cheek. His eyes went black, muffling each breath as I fell deeper into his dark edge. 

“No one can save you from me.” Panting, my eyes lifted up, and up as he pushed me onto his bed. Pinning me between him and his mattress he asked, “Where is your God now? 

His gaze slid down my body, stripping me of a mind of my own. From the streaks in my hair, to the lace of my bra, to my bare legs as the memory of his hand between them came to life. My eyes lost sight as he went further, his shoulders wrapped in my arms of lust. So gentle yet commanding, making me want to sin. 

“Please don’t stop,” I cried breathlessly. My legs shaking with pleasure as your touch turned to torture. It was as if the room had been lit by hell, the heat consuming me from the inside out, making it sinful to stay still. I clenched my teeth, trying to push away, but he grabbed my wrists. He slapped me hard, pushing air into my lungs lifting my chest to nearly graze his own. 

“Did I hurt you?” 

I shook my head, and in mere seconds I was flipped face down. My mouth opened, aroused by a sadistic lore when your voice fell into place. As if I was on the verge of seeing my truth.

Then everything got kind of blurry. I didn’t know who or where I was…

Till it was over. I was back slightly in my own body, entirely present, unsure of myself and aware of my surroundings. I stood at the edge of the bar, in front of him caressing my fourth drink.

“Will that be all for you?” 

I was choking up inside. I asked myself, how – how — how did that just happen? 

Umm yes — thanks — actually no… a lime. My stomach turned. He was so enchanting. 

As quickly as I could question my psychiatric worldview – my whole existence to be exact – I grabbed the last of my dignity bottled up in a shot and ran out to the street, where I existed only in thought.

So long to my desire at a love like death. It seems I only breathe delusions of a disordered mind. I will think about our imaginary life together and then talk to you tomorrow like I don't want anything more than my usual, a triple shot beside a panic-stricken lime pod.

p.s. romance is so much more beautiful in my head. No man alive can compete with the world I’ve created.

with pleasure,

k. 🙈