He's no stranger to a random crush. His last girlfriend left him because of his romantic possessiveness, love sick poems and clinging behaviour. She also hated how he knew where she was, what she was thinking. She had no thoughts for herself, time to herself. He misses her even though the relationship ended badly. She was attractive but had a temper like a banshee. Marique wasn't like that, he was sure. She was placid, pliant, romantic.
He shakes the vision from his head and showers, before reluctantly changing cum-stained sheets. He begins rummaging once more amid the clothes, rolled in tight rubber bands and releases a couple of T Shirts from their bindings. One, bearing a small graphic of the Eiffel Tower, the other bearing the words "Same, Same but Different", the kind bought in Thailand or Indonesia. There's no buzz of travel about them but a feint trace of perfume blended with the slight taint of dampness. They haven't been worn in a while and they're certainly foreign rip-offs. He closes his eyes and imagines her pulling the soft cotton fabric over perfect breasts. Another emerging erection is soon quelled by a disturbing vision.
He's a true gentleman to Marique and restoring her faith in men, who she once thought so rough and cruel. He's gentle and holds her hand,won't allow her on the 'floor', other than to clear tables.
"You're my bud, my blossom and not for the opening," he'd cooed in her ear. "You're not like these girls, all you have to do is clean up when we close and you can stay here as long as you like."
He knows she's a virgin, an innocent and never 'pushes' her. She waits tables although she's barely old enough to do, so but she looks more mature in a little black dress with a little silver embellishment, sparkling and shimmering from within and without. Lips reddened and hair festooned across her tantalising shoulders.
"Here, perhaps the closest you'll get for now, but better than nothing."
"These should fit...and you need something more exotic for the club. We'll have to go shopping somewhere a little more burlesque for that. Tomorrow perhaps."
She's still getting a grip on the gringo tongue but knows he's helping her and she loves him for it. When he buys her a silver pendant with her zodiac sign, dangling from a delicate chain, she's overwhelmed and throws her arms around his neck once again. It could have been a wedding band and she wouldn't have been more thrilled.
He showed her how to put her hand around the shaft, how to slide her tongue from base to tip and around in circular sweeps. How to place hands and probing fingers in places she wouldn’t believe, and her tongue in those places once forbidden. Some positions were solely to ‘feel’, others perfect to ‘look’. Sitting on him, her back to his chest, his hand massaging her, or him on top, moving like a wave above her - every position had its pleasure, some their raw discomfort and abject pain. Some just gratuitous, others contorted. His aggression becoming more frequent, his demands becoming more perverted. The more sex she had, the more she became used to it. The more she objected, the more he asked of her. The less she wanted to oblige.
He introduced her to erotic toys, the pleasure they gave underwhelmed by the pain they caused.
"I don't want to do this any more, " she'd objected.
"But I love you..." he'd replied and embraced her softly until she forgave the intrusion into every orifice. Her ignorance believing that this is how it should be. A woman should please her man.
"You have a beautiful body, you could dance on the floor. Better still, I have a friend. He needs a favour. I want you to show him what you can do. He'll be grateful and I'll pay you. You can pay me back for the flat and the furniture. You don't need to wait tables any more."
"You want me to be like them? The other girls? You want me to take my clothes off in front of men?"
"Oh baby, I want you to do more than that, but we'll start with the dancing."
She's already left the bed, embarrassed, she covers herself with a cerise satin sheet, the tears beginning to well.
"I won't, I won't do it!"
She needs a way out.