Ibis - Leviathan Laroche (love letters to the dead .txt) 📗
- Author: Leviathan Laroche
Book online «Ibis - Leviathan Laroche (love letters to the dead .txt) 📗». Author Leviathan Laroche
"Yes," he admitted. "But I'm ... I can't ... I think about it all the time. I look at people and I want to screw them. I even look at ... at things." He took both my wrists in one hand then and trailed his other urgently down my body, over my chest and stomach and around to squeeze my ass and pull me into his hips so hard he almost lifted me off the floor a little. "Please unlock me. I promise you, if you unlock me right now I am going to fuck you like I never have before."
I wriggled my hips a little against him, but never dropped my cool for a second. This had not come unexpectedly. "Two weeks, baby. You agreed to go two weeks."
"Well, fuck that!" He raised his voice to a loud growl, and it sounded almost dangerous. Angry. "I'm not doing this anymore. I want my cock back, right now." He was dragging my pants down as he spoke, grabbing my vulva demandingly, still pinning my hands to the wall. I wasn't sure if there was a strategy to it, whether he was planning to seduce me or assert his physical power or whether he just wasn't thinking anything at all. But in any case, he harshly dragged my panties aside and pushed two long fingers inside me without preamble.
I wanted it. I wanted to unleash him, I wanted the rogue tide of his frustration to sweep over me and knock me off my feet. But I was prepared.
"Two weeks," I breathed. "And no less."
He growled a wordless curse and began a quick rhythm on my cunt, his hips thrusting into thin air to the same rhythm.
"That's it, baby," I whispered, trying to shift the power dynamic back into my hands, "Give it to me. Show me how pissed you are right now. I'm gonna come again and you're gonna stay locked up in that cage for four more days." F is for Friends
"You have two hours, Jake."
And my boss hung up, right then and there. I paced across my apartment's living room in a panic. Two hours—I had two hours to send him an article I hadn't even started. I looked at the window and cursed the goddamn storm outside.
It had been going for the entire day and had resulted in a power outage in my apartment. The computer would obviously not start, but my boss had told me that the article was meant for Monday. Now, he had just called me with a change of plan, telling me he needed the article TONIGHT. Well, I wasn't about to fail at my job; I had just recently graduated in journalism and had been lucky enough to find a job with an online newspaper—messing up this early in my career was not in my interest.
I sat in front of my desk, opened Pages on my Mac and typed away as fast as I could. "It won't be that long..." I thought to myself. It was only a short article about an up and coming fashion designer in my city. I had interviewed him the weekend before and taken pictures of his workshop. I knew everything I had to write, I just had to put it down in words. Two hours was tight, but I could do with tight.
I had made it five minutes into the writing when I heard the door in the back open. There were three doors behind the small living room, one was my room's, and the two others were Kylie's and Zoe's—my roommates. Kylie would return from work at midnight, so I knew it was Zoe entering the living room. I couldn't tell you much about Zoe, seeing as I barely knew her.
Kylie was a good friend from university, and Zoe was one of her friends. It made sense that we could get along as roommates, and so we had been living in this apartment for three weeks by now, splitting up the rent.
I threw a quick glance behind me before going back to my writing. Much to our lesbian Kylie's chagrin, Zoe was an incredibly cute, straight girl. There was something cold and dark when you looked at her.
She had dark brown hair and similarly colored eyes, but her eyes always had that look of cold confidence to them; a sort of "I know what I'm doing" attitude. If the term "resting bitch face" had a copyright, it damn sure belonged to Zoe. In the three weeks we had spent as roommates, I had never once seen her smile.
Not that she was sad or gloomy—quite the opposite, in fact. She never smiled but she looked almost aggressively confident, and there was always some sort of excitement lurking behind her cold, intelligent expression. However, I kept wondering how she would look with a smile.
Zoe had these plump lips most girls dreamed to have, and a smile would certainly have looked cute on them. She was slightly below average height with a lean body—she did a lot of yoga after all. Cute is really the best term I can find to describe her. Not some mind-blowing beauty, but pretty enough that you enjoyed just looking at her.
That was pretty much all I knew about her. We only small-talked from time to time—acquaintances was the best word to describe us. Her cold resting face and incredibly calm demeanor didn't necessarily repulse you, but it didn't make her appear like the most sociable of persons either, and so I'd never really gotten to know her that well.
"We still have coffee?" she asked as she walked to the kitchen. I responded with a succinct nod; my goal wasn't to seem rude or disinterested, but I had an article to finish as quickly as possible. However, when she returned from the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, I noticed that the usual cold confidence of her face was gone. Instead of it, there was an uncharacteristic exhaustion. Maybe even sadness, but the most subtle sadness you could imagine. Curious, I turned away from my desk as she sat on the couch to look at her phone.
"You O.K?" I asked.
She nodded. Her attitude was still imbued with her trademark, calm nonchalance. "Yeah, it's nothing, don't worry." I didn't quite believe her, and she noticed it. Zoe's left side of her lips formed some half-smile as she scoffed. "My boyfriend just left me."
"Oh... I'm really sorry..." She had had that boyfriend for four months. I definitely couldn't just go back to my article unless I wanted to look like a cold asshole. A few minutes away from my computer wouldn't kill me, I told myself, so I walked over to her and sat on the sofa.
She held the hot coffee close to her as if to warm herself, and sat with her legs on the couch. That was another thing about Zoe; she always moved and sat in the most elegant ways, as if there was always a camera she was posing for. I suppose working as a yoga teacher helped.
"He literally just dumped me, the absolute cunt." Most girls cried in such a situation, but Zoe looked more like a scheming supervillain—a half smirk on the side of her mouth, that calm coldness in her eyes and one eyebrow always raised higher than the other. She drank some coffee and continued. "I know moving to a different city wasn't going to help, but damn, I thought he could endure it for me."
"It's normal that you're sad."
"Sad?" She scoffed confidently. "Pshh, fuck him. Not sad, disappointed. I have very high standards for boyfriends, and he let me down." She shook her head the way a teacher would before an inept student. "I'm also disappointed at myself. I don't care that it's over, I'm mad that it wasn't ME who broke up with him. Things should only ever go my way."
Her confident smirk looked supervillain-y. I couldn't help but admire her strength of character. Zoe was a leader type, that much was clear: she decided how things went and everyone had better listen to her. Honestly, I could imagine her cold look alone making people obey her. Zoe took another sip of the coffee, but then she sighed. There was an exhaustion about her.
"What is it?" I asked.
"It's just... what an asshole... He was supposed to travel here for the weekend; I was going to see him tomorrow. He cancelled and broke up with me just when we were about to see each other."
"It's normal you feel this way. You loved him."
Zoe giggled assuredly. "It's not that, not at all. It's..." She sighed, and for the first time, I saw a full smile on her lips. Her "evil queen" air gave way to a bit of girly shyness. "Maybe it's too much detail..."
"You can tell me." Now I was genuinely curious.
"It's... You know... I haven't seen him in three weeks... And I have a libido."
"Too long without sex, eh? I can relate. Broke up with my girlfriend in March."
Zoe shook her head. "No, it's not that. Honestly, when it comes to me, I'm fine not having sex for a while, I can always masturbate... It's not lack of sex that's driving me crazy right now."
There was genuine exhaustion in her eyes; the sort of exhaustion you see when someone has waited too long for something.
"Then what is?"
Zoe looked again at me, and her embarrassed smile emerged again. She hid her face with the coffee cup and giggled. "You'll think I'm weird if I tell you."
"I won't."
"You will. Everyone thinks I'm weird when I tell them."
"I promise I won't judge."
Zoe lowered the coffee cup and chewed her lip the way people do when they're a bit uneasy. Finally, she bit her lip, and I saw true hunger on her pretty face. "I'm bummed because I won't get to suck his cock." She groaned playfully as soon as she noticed the shift in my expression. "Yes, you heard me right. I'm... Urgh... I like sucking cock, OK? No, scratch that, I LOVE sucking cock. And I could've been sucking one tomorrow..." She closed her eyes and sighed so dramatically, you'd think she was in an opera.
"That much?"
"Yep." She giggled and took a sip of the coffee. "I'm kind of obsessed. You know, when I'm not in a relationship, I..." She covered her face, unable to stop her cheeks from reddening out of embarrassment. "When I'm not in a relationship, I straight up just blow my close guy friends. We hang out, they play on the Xbox and meanwhile, I suck them off."
My head was going in circles. So much incomprehensibly strange info was being dumped on me that I didn't know what to do with all of it. I was suddenly learning more about Zoe, and what I was learning was... unexpected. I hadn't ever pictured her sexual life; she was just a polite roommate to me, but I would have never expected her to be such a... well pardon the
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