Comatose Scene 2

Hello everyone! This is scene two of the project I’ve been working on. Please help me by giving back constructive criticism and liking and sharing with others. This is today’s weekend story. Enjoy! 



Amy kisses me on the cheek as we lay in bed together, it
wakes me up gently, and I open my eyes to her. She smiles at me, her eyes glossy and gleaming. Her hands bundled tightly under her chin. The sheets are pulled to her neck, but she leaves the curve of her back open. She leaves it open for me, for my eyes to be hypnotize, but her body reminds me of whoredom and the betrayal she’s committed. I don’t know for certain if she has, but there’s too many signs above her, and it’s killing me. She sees my hesitant eyes, and she kisses my lips sexually and wet. Her smooth delicate skin so touchable, kissable, I want it close to me, now! I forget my worries, and I’ve weakened before her.

She says to me with a sweetened tone, “Good morning, Mr. Amazing.” Kisses me again, but my lips are reluctant to her seduction. “Are you still mad at me?” She pulls away from me. The puppy dog eyes come out, and I’ve lost.
“Of course not.” I say it with regret because deep down I
know we haven’t brought the entirety of betrayal out. We haven’t
scratched the surface of her secrecy. She still went behind my
back, but for this morning, I let it go. Besides, I have work in
a few hours, and I don’t want to ruin the whole day. I have to
be clean and pressed like the boss likes.

“Can I still move some of my stuff in this afternoon? I
don’t have work today, so I don’t need any help.”
“That would be fine. You still have the key?” I ask.

She turns to her nightstand behind her, grabs her car keys, fiddles through three or four keys, and finds my house key. “Got it!” She shows it to me. Brand new and never been used. The sheets move and her breast are exposed. I stare at them like a hungry wolf drooling. “Easy tiger.” She says. “Wait until you get home tonight. Then we’ll break in the house. If you know what I mean.” I know exactly what she means. She pulls the sheets back to her neck, covers her body, and winks.

“How am I suppose to go through the day and be focused thinking about you and your body?” I attempt to pull the sheets from her. She pulls back. Plan B. I bring my lips close to hers, but she presses her finger to my lips, bites her bottom lip and says:
“You’ll just have to be patient.” She gets out of bed, and
I’m faced with her naked figure once again. Her body is
amazingly tight, flexible by memory—I remember, but she wraps a
robe around her naked body, and my mind is begging for mercy.
“When did you get a robe?” I say, trying to contain myself
with self control.

“I got it the other day. It was on sale. You like it?” She
asks, twisting her hips side to side.
“I like it better on the floor. Why did you get it? You
never wore one before.”
“To keep hungry animals in their cages.” She points at me.
She goes to the bathroom and turns the shower on.
“Can I join you?” I shout through the stream of water,
praying for clearance.

“No, you cannot. You must be patient.” She says. “You’ll never wait for tonight. I know your game, just waiting to get me naked and vulnerable.” She’s right.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Do I love her, or am I addicted to her body? I think. Moments later, Amy turns off the water, and she comes out, this time no robe. She’s soaking wet from every crevice and inch of her body. The carpet is catching the water dripping from her, and for the first time I’m jealous of the carpet. “I have to leave now. I’m going to get some boxes filled. I have a big day ahead of me, you know.” She dries her body, grabs the clothes I hadn’t noticed before that hung on the back of the bedroom door, and begins dressing herself. Before I knew it she was gone, shower time was over, and my only wish is for a magic remote I could rewind time with and play that scene over and over and over again.

She comes near the bed, leans over it, and kisses my lips one last time. I don’t attempt to fondle her for the fear of solitary confinement. “Bye, sweetie. I’ll see you tonight.” She says and just as always, she’s gone. She gets away with everything, and leaves the evidence—the taste of her lips—on my lips.
I can’t stay in bed all day. I have work, but no time for
anything. Amy once again left me in a trance I cannot explain. I
get out of bed and skip the shower, planning to eat breakfast
downstairs, and then I’ll head out for work. I’ll be early for
work if I drive fast enough or if traffic is surprisingly slow
today, but I have to get my coffees, and I usually take the long
way to work anyway. I head downstairs and grab a morning muffin.
I’ve been skipping morning meals too often. It’s made me shaky
throughout the day, and it hasn’t made me feel strong. I’ve been
working and living off caffeine.
I get in my car and devour the muffin before starting the
engine. Today feels like a slow day is approaching, and Amy is
the only thing clogging my unbalanced mind. She can’t get away
with this, but she will if I don’t take control of myself. I’ll
have to make myself an eunuch if I think for a moment I’ll win
an argument with her. She has my every sexual desire and craving—and most importantly, control—at the echo of a word. I am under
her spell.

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