The One I Love

Chapter 01: The Beginning

Where do you begin to tell a story of heart break? It's something so difficult to reflect on, so painful to relive. How in the world can one ever hope to learn from their mistakes, if they cannot look into the past and see what went wrong?

I suppose, a good place to begin would be to state who's at fault for this heart break--and that, of course-- would be me. I am responsible for my own broken heart, as well as the shattered pieces of others that I've loved and whose hearts I maimed with my own selfishness and wanting.

The following is a complicated story, but if you read it you shall be rewarded.

Pick up the pieces with me, as I revisit my dark and forlorn past.

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Impulsive. There's one word—something that I do not appear to be, although I am. I thought as I sat unobtrusively on the stool of a bar, wishing I had more single friends to get together with. Sure, it was great that all my close friends had a significant other to share their time with, but in all honesty, and especially on nights like this, it was frustrating beyond belief.

I took another sip of my drink and mulled the flavours over in my mouth, running my tongue along the outside of my lip, wetting it ever so slightly. I sometimes imagined if men looking in my direction at the time found this action in any way sensual, or if they felt it was as silly as I did, to lick your lips in such a feral manner. Apparently it was the former of the two, because seconds later a rather attractive man was walking towards me, a sexy smirk on his face.

Truth be told, I had no idea what men saw in me. I'd never found myself personally attractive or captivating in any way. I was a plain Jane to an almost painful degree. Brown eyes, brown hair, short, average weight, average breasts and mediocre ass. The only characteristic I felt was worth appreciating was my intelligence—and the men I associated with hardly stuck around long enough to remember my middle name, never mind what smart joke I told or what interesting comment I made.

As monsieur tall dark and sexy made his way over, I pondering further how in the world I managed to snag as many men as I did in this town, contemplating the staggering figure of one night stands that was my love life. It really was a mystery.

"Can I buy you another one?"

I looked slightly to my right and saw the man in question leaning against the counter with the same sexy smile. He probably thinks he's really something. Typical.

I put on a fake sexy smile of my own, thinking of how fake it must look but knowing it somehow worked every time.

"Only if you stick around and share one with me."

They always had the same smile, the kid-in-a-candy-shop look, whenever I was forward enough to invite them to sit. Same old song and dance, every single time.

Two hours, four drinks, 13 blocks, and endless amounts of flirting later, we were at the apartment of mister rich ass business man (formerly known as tall dark and sexy). Specifically, I was in the elevator of a very nice building, heading up to an 11th floor suite, while the man in question shoved his hands none too lightly over my thighs and breasts and threw his tongue down my throat. Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't that he was a bad kisser, it was just that after three years of the same shit one begins to tire of it all.

Mister ingenuity surprised me still when he lifted me up onto his hips. I wrapped my legs around his waist; I could feel his arousal peeking beneath his designer trousers.

The doors of the elevator opened directly into his apartment, and I felt his hands rolling up the hem of my dress while trying to free himself of the confines of his pants. It was done rather quickly, and almost as soon as we had entered the apartment he had entered me, sheathing himself in mywarmth. I felt the heat between us, and I could suddenly feel a wall behind my back. I could hear him groaning and panting as he thrust in and out, slamming me against the wall without a care. I pulled on his hair and forced his mouth against my throat, ordering him to kiss my flesh. He quickly obliged, still pumping with vigour, and moving his lips down to my breast. He teased my nipples with abandon, sucking and biting until I was crying out, something I rarely did. Though soon it was him crying out, not even bothering to muffle his cries as his thrusts became rougher faster and harder and soon I could feel the tremor of his orgasm within me, triggering a small one of my own.

He set me down onto the ground, still panting with exhaustion. I straightened out my dress as he walked over to the minibar and made us both a drink. I took mine down in one gulp as I watched him lean against the sofa.

"I should get going." I said. He only nodded.

I grabbed my purse from where it had fallen and walked towards the elevator, soon to be outside.

As the icy night air hit my face I thought of how unbelievably pointless all this was. I thought about it getting into the cab, then on the way up to my apartment, then while showering off the nights filth, and even lying in bed all clean, yet still feeling inexorably dirty inside.