I sighed, catching my reflection in the mirror. the dress was ill fitting and made me look like a doll. My dark red hair neatly in place, my chocolate colored eyes rimmed with a soft gray. I'd be stuck in it for a few hours if I was lucky. Shedding it quickly, I pushed aside dresses and shirts that I would probably never wear again. I sighed and thought of my pajamas in my dresser. Why couldn't I wear those?
My eyes shifted to the pile of clothes on my bed, a mauve piece of cloth peeking beneath so much trashy attire. Rescuing it as quickly as I could, my words coming out only in curses, then smiling once I had my way. I strapped on shoes and stepped into the dress. Before leaving I stole a glance in the mirror, righting my hair, fixing my heavy and large tits beneath my bra, hefting them each beneath the cups of lace. "I hate this" I muttered angrily.
Locked up, hailed a cab, and my mind raced with reasons why I should just detour, skip out, maybe head to the bar. Anything was better than the fate at the end of the cab ride. I watched the buildings go by slowly and I dug the flask out of my purse. The alcohol stung it's way down, but I hardly noticed. The driver on the other hand did, and chided me for it. I glared at him and he shook his head.
The church was intimidating to say the least. A Gothic bell tower and I felt like Quasimodo, but this was no sanctuary. I heaved a sigh and opened the doors. My cousin's wedding. to the son of some wealthy tycoon of somewhere. I found it hard to care and I was glad to have slipped in late to the proceedings. I caught the end of the vows and I rolled my eyes at their 'I do's.
I found my heart breaking a little, but only for my own sake. Pathetic. Displays of love, or even fleeting passion made me sick to my stomach, since love was something that had slipped from my grasp for so long. At least the women of the room looked promising. I imagined most of them, as they filed out of the church in nothing but stockings, heels and corsets. I tightened my thighs together and bowed my head in the house of god.
I passed the confessionals, they reminded me of voting booths and a smile passed my lips. I saw an ex, also on her way out of the church. I caught her eye and beckoned her over. She blushed and my mind raced. Did she still hate me? Would she give into my sick desires, here, even now? She made her way through the pushing crowd and greeted me with a hug. I waited for her words. "Lead me" she breathed heavily into my ear, her knee spreading my legs. I watched the eyes of the crowd, and led her to a confessional.
We slipped in and the curtain shut with a whisper of velvet. I wasted no time and kissed her heatedly, biting into her lips. My hands searching her body, trying to find a spot to call my own. I kissed her neck, biting into it. Her pert breasts heaved with the attention of my hands and effort of her own breathing. "I remember this..." she whimpered. "Such passion..." I kissed her, delaying the words I did not want to hear, the words she'd spoken the last time we'd been together. "but not passion for me." she finished somberly, sweeping the hair from my eyes, and kissed me a last time. "Goodbye Delilah."
"Hannah" I whispered, trying to call her back. She left me there in the booth, the curtains pulled closed after her. The church was silent. I pulled my dress up to my thighs and sat on the bench within. Holding my head in my hands, I found myself grateful that I hadn't worn too much makeup. My eyes swam with tears, regret perhaps for fucking things up so completely with Hannah. "Was it just the sex?" I asked myself softly. I fixed my hair, dress and left the church as quickly as I could.
I descended the steps and there were still cars offering rides to the reception. I took a ride with the faces that looked the least familiar. I tried to comfort myself with thoughts of overflowing cocktails.
I didn't want complicated things; a woman to tame me, love me even. I found my table and started with a few flutes of champagne. I took a fourth and sat down. I sighed and held my head in my hands once more. My head cleared as I looked up and saw her.
the beginning:
What happened to you? Her dancing hips. Her smile alights the room and she catches my eye without even trying. Her white dress clinging like a layer of water upon her skin. The fabric flowing in the scented breeze. Tan skin and auburn hair. Her strappy heels do naught but make her legs go on for days. I want her ankles in my hands. To spread her legs. To know and touch her the way only a lover can. I wanted to see her face twist in pain.
She sips her drink. I can't help but stare at her from my table. She bites at her nails. A nervous gesture. I stand and walk towards her, handing her a new drink. She cocks her head at me, confused. "Thank you?" she says quietly, unsure how to take my gesture.
"You shouldn't be so nervous."
"Pardon?" So. Fucking. Hot. I wanted her. In my arms, screaming for release.
I stared at the tablecloth, wishing I could gather the courage to make the moves I saw play out in my head. A hand on her hip, between her thighs. I'd make her beg for me, as I ached for her. The sweat would gather along her forehead, hair sticking to her temples. She would tremble.
Sighing, I held my head in my hands. Trying to will away my sinful thoughts. But there she stayed. I wanted to mark her the way I saw her in my mind. I squirmed, uncomfortably in my chair. alone, always alone. And so it will stay that way. Cowardice stinging. But the memories stung more. Rejection, deceit, pain, and so made numb. I felt around the inside of my purse for something... there.
I made my way out of the reception tent. I didn't even know why the fuck I'd stayed. I sat upon a tree stump near the outskirts of the grounds, not caring if my dress would be ruined, or if it was wet and my panties would show through. Why bother. Stockings and heels lost somewhere along the run to the spot I would now make sacred. What did it matter? I hiked up my dress, sliding my hands along the inside of my thighs... if only I knew how she felt, the sound of her voice... the curve of her naked breasts...
My own nipples had hardened at the very thought of her. I ran my fingertips along the many scars that patterned my legs. A shudder ran through my body, and I reached for my purse and tore it open. I smiled as my fingers closed around the hilt. I spread my hips wider, my hand finding it's way to my clit. I moaned aloud as I teased it gently at first. Dipping my fingers deep inside, raising them to my lips as I dug the blade into my flesh of my inner thigh.
The familiar passion, the burn, that I can only feel with pain. I cried as I dropped the knife, pain washing over me with climax. Why did it feel so wrong, so good? Euphoria. Why did the guilt make me want to pick up the knife once more? My legs spread wider to steady my seat upon the tree as my orgasm took over my body. I moaned, writhing, crying like a child; selfish and needy.
I heard footsteps behind me, but my hands kept moving violently, fingers thrusting in deeper. My back arched, aching for it to be her. I wanted her so badly I didn't care if she saw me this way. Would it give me the courage to take charge and dominate her like I wanted to? I reached for the knife, and made a deeper cut, my arms covered in blood and my own come. I needed more, I needed to lose control, pass out, forget the entire day perhaps. If only I could forget her.
Tears fell from my eyes, and I did little to stop them. I knew I looked a mess, but it felt so good, and the footsteps were gone, had I imagined them? Desiring her so completely that I had imagined... the despair was overwhelming.
I wept, climaxing for what I knew to be the last that day. I turned, curious if anyone really had seen me. The shame rose and covered my cheeks in a deep blush. "Are you alright? I heard crying, and..." I trembled, so very embarrassed. The blood had rushed to my head, I was certain, it made me brave as I fucked myself with fervor. But now, I tried to hide my face from this man, this stranger. "You're bleeding." he said quietly. I expected him to piece it together slowly, then turn and flee, screaming for someone to lock the crazy bitch up.
But instead, he did not shy away. He bit his bottom lip, perhaps confusion while trying to absorb it all. I reached slowly for the knife and he smiled at me. He was in a suit, but had left his jacket at the party. His black hair and pale skin an interesting contrast, held my gaze. his eyes a slate color, but far from lifeless. Broad shoulders, and strong limbs. Why the hell was I so attracted? He broke me from my reverie. "Your hands are very messy." Awestruck, I nodded. "Do you do that often? The cutting, the coming?" Fear ran through me, though I did not know why.
"I don't have to answer that, I don't even know you." I blushed all different kinds of red, and tried to push my skirt back down. Or at least set my panties right. His interest broke me, unmade me completely, any confidence lost and thrown to the wind.
"No, no you don't." His eyes bore into me, and I felt my soul had been bared. I gaped as he reached for my wrist, the blood on it still wet. Kneeling beside me he brought my hand close to his face. I trembled uncontrollably as he licked his lips.
"What are you..." He sucked on my fingers, licking them clean, one, by one. He kissed my wrist, lapping at the blood and come.
"You taste" he moaned in delight, "divine. I think I want more of you." He turned me towards him, spreading my thighs. "I saw you." As much as I wanted to push him away, assuring myself that I was just desperate for human contact. That my now sopping cunt was simply because in the back of my mind, I was still thinking of the woman from the reception. My eyes started to fill with tears. Confusion. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to be her between my thighs. "Enough of that." He kissed the tears, the tenderness shook me. "Now tell me your name."
"I.... I..." I began to stutter, and he raised a brow. I felt the blood stop flowing from the cuts while he ran his fingertips over them slowly.
