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Si? I See.

I don’t know who he was really; he barely knew who I was for that matter. His name may have been Max or Leelat or Rumpelstiltskin, for the life of me, I can neither remember nor bring myself to care.

I had just gotten out of the water and with the ocean in my hair I lay down in the sand. The sun was not up yet, I closed my eyes and let myself drift. Just as I was losing consciousness to the sound of the ocean, I heard another sound.

You can imagine my surprise, as far as I knew and as far as the ungodly hour suggested, I was alone at the beach. And I had hoped for it to stay that way. Startled I sat up with a jerk and prepared to tell him that I had not ordered any coffee, but then… I recognized him.
It would make perfect sense for me to say that it was his eyes that rendered me speechless each time I saw him, only, it was not. If anything, it was his hair. Long and bushy. A modern day Slash if you will. And, of course, there was the fact that neither of us spoke more than a few nondescript words of each others languages.

Despite our constant attempts to understand each other the previous evening, all I knew about him was that he was maybe Italian, maybe Sri Lankan. He spoke the languages of both countries and lived in neither. He guzzled whiskey like an old wreck of a car guzzles fuel. He played the guitar and knew one Hindi song, Pehla Nasha, no surprise there. All he knew about me was that I was beautiful, sheesh, having told me at length the previous evening.

He handed me the cup; he did not work at the beach and even if he did everything was lying shut, how exactly had he procured that delectable cup of much needed coffee?
I gestured that he sit down, he gestured that I stand up. Being in his ‘debt’ as I was, I smiled much too knowingly and stood up. We walked along the coast, not to paint the picture of ‘falling in love’.

I finished my coffee and he indicated that he’d like to hold my hand, I explained politely that I’d rather not, he took it anyway. We chanced upon a raised clearing of rather rocky terrain and his demeanor suggested that he’d like to stop. Alright, what I wanted had become irrelevant, anyway. Or maybe I just wanted something else. So I stopped, he sat down on the one seemingly smooth rock and waited for me to relent. I did not. He insisted. I raised my eyebrow and quite literally, looked down upon him. He held my wrist with his hand and said- Sit.
One word. One fucking word but it sent a wave of electric current through my entire body. I don’t remember making the conscious effort to sit but I seemed to be sitting nonetheless.

You know the gentle manner in which one handles little children so as to keep themselves from squeezing the life out of them? That is how he pushed me back onto the rocks. Then, as is customary, he lay down beside me. The sun was rising, faintly, in the cloudy sky. I arched my back and stretched like the feline creature that I am not.
Eyes closed in ecstasy as my muscles woke up.
He kissed my neck, just a peck, on the nape that suddenly seemed over-exposed.
I had expected this, maybe not this exactly, but where it was headed. Yet, a faint kiss? Who the hell did he think he was with?

I think my expressions must have been self explanatory, he looked at me, I looked at him, the corners of his mouth twitching, aching to smirk.
In a much too thinly veiled attempt, I put my hand under my head and raised my neck, close enough so I could feel his breath on it.

He bit me, hard enough to make me gasp, perhaps in pleasure and not pain. But who’s to know where that boundary lies, anyway.
He asked.
He bit me harder.
He really did not need to ask, I was flushed.
He brought his mouth down on mine and held my lip between his incisors.
I could hear his question in my mouth. I nodded with either my head or my eyes.
He grabbed my hair and pulled me up as he bit me behind my ear.
It was not really a question anymore, more like a test of the extent of my compliance.
He stood up as he pulled me up by my hair, deaf to my whimpering as if that too was a language he did not comprehend.
Mi casa? Si?
Si. Si. Si. Si. Si. Si.


About ancilla9876

I'm a young, female, Indian submissive and masochist. I am many other things, of course. But this blog mostly deals with the contents of my lede sentence.

One response to “Si? I See.

  1. Pingback: Word of the Day Wednesday: Culaccino | EF Foundation for Foreign Study Mid-Atlantic

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