Follow You Down (Farfalla Book 1) Page 6

  So is what I did a type of suicide? Or, instead, like alcohol and drugs, a slow suicide? Self-destruction? Destroying the old me? Tossing myself off a bridge and looking for an afterlife of love and acceptance?

  I don’t look at it that way. Instead, I look at it as someone finding someone she loves, or at least could love…and then being prepared to do anything to keep that person. Today, people would call that co-dependent, I guess—facilitating someone’s behavior or addictions or whatever. Maybe it was. I’m no doctor. But I’d also be lying if I didn’t admit that I was a little bit sexually excited. While I was worried David would lead me to things I couldn’t do, I was also excited about some possibilities. The 60s had awakened our country to the idea that anything could be. The 50s were black and white, but the 60s were sparkling Technicolor. We were almost now to the 80s, but my life was still dull and gray. I was leading a sheltered life…a sparse life. Was I missing out? How would I know if I didn’t try?

  While I was very sexually inexperienced, I was no prude. My thoughts revolved around meeting a great guy and being with him exclusively. Still, that doesn’t mean I hadn’t had the occasional fantasy of multiple partners. I had heard whispers of sexual oddities and wondered, if only a little, what it was like. While I never imagined doing these things, it didn’t mean I was disgusted by them. Well, some of them, perhaps, but not all.

  Control. That was what I really needed. If I wanted to keep who I was, I needed to keep myself from being coerced or forced into something I wouldn’t want to do. That, I thought, was how it should go down. I had to exert control from the outset.

  I called David very late…or very early. After a few rings, I heard the line click, and heard his breath. “Yeah? Who is it?” His voice was dry and foggy.

  “Hi, David. It’s Rachel.”

  “Oh, hi, Rachel. It’s two o’clock…you okay?”

  “Yeah. I just wanted you to know I thought about what we talked about.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Whatever you decide is okay with—”

  I cut him off. “I decided I want to try those things with you, David. I want to follow you down the path you’re going.”

  Silence, except for shallow breaths.

  “David?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. You sure?”

  “Pretty sure. I’ll give it a try, anyway. But…I have one condition.”

  “Okay…let’s hear it.”

  “We take it slowly. One thing at a time. Don’t rush me. Don’t push me. Don’t coerce me. If we reach a point where I can’t go any farther, then I will just stop, okay?”

  “Yeah, of course…sure.”

  “I mean that, David…this is non-negotiable…don’t put pressure on me and don’t put me in situations I’m not ready for.”

  “Got it…yeah.”

  “Okay. When are you leaving for Tanzania?”

  “Day after tomorrow. Can I see you tomorrow?”

  “I probably won’t have the strength. I’m meeting Stella tomorrow in the afternoon. I’m taking her all my poems. And I have homework to grade. Let’s just get together when you get back, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Goodnight, David.”

  “Goodnight, baby.”

  I didn’t know what was ahead of me, but I had just jumped off my nice, safe, lonely bridge. The air was already rushing around me. I was falling, plunging into the unknown depths…the cavernous darkness below me. I was curious to see where I would land. Fearful? Absolutely. I was petrified…yet excited at the same time.

  PART II : LEPIDOPTERA

  7

  We were walking in Central Park, holding hands. The sun had just gone down, and it was getting a bit cool. A soft breeze blew on my legs, and up my peasant skirt. I felt warm tonight though. David had just returned from Tanzania. He was burned brown, and was tired from the long flight. But he had called me as soon as he had arrived, and said he couldn’t wait to see me. I liked being his first thought.

  He was telling me stories of his adventures over the last three weeks. He had seen lions eat wildebeest. He had baked in the hot sun of the grasslands. Been soaked by tropical rainstorms. Climbed up Mt. Kilimanjaro, high enough to touch the snow. He had watched native dances and eaten Tanzanian food, even though he didn’t like it much. Everything he did seemed so romantic…exotic, to use his word. I listened breathlessly to everything he said.

  As we walked and he talked, I imagined him in these places. Camera around his neck, notepad in hand. Taking down the sights and smells and tastes of East Africa. A modern-day Ernest Hemingway, tasting foreign lands to inspire his art. Being a mix of African and English, I hadn’t yet been to either ancestral continent. I knew I must travel to the landmarks of my heritage, or at least what I knew. David, though, had been everywhere.

  “What really gets you in the Serengeti is the dust. In the dry season, it’s enough to choke you. It’s in your eyes, your ears, your nose. All you want to do is take a long shower and change your clothes. Then it rains and you’re slopping through mud.”

  “How did you stay clean out there?”

  “Well, you can’t. We’d wash in our tents, using a bowl and sponge. I changed clothes a few times, but never enough. Felt like the dirt and dust and mud were everywhere.”

  We walked along and saw the darkness enclosing us. We sat on a bench, near the Dakota and the 72nd Street subway. That towering Gothic building sat like a gargoyle over us, watching us. Its dark mystery made me think of European cathedrals, or vampiric castles.

  It was a quiet night, and few people were around. I took his arm and leaned on his shoulder. I knew he was tired from his long and numerous flights, and I didn’t quite know what he was expecting upon his return.

  “So, Rachel, how do you feel about everything we were talking about before I left?”

  “What do you mean, David?” I asked. I knew, but wanted him to say it.

  “You know…the talk we had…are you still okay with it? Have you changed your mind?”

  “No, I haven’t changed my mind. I guess I just don’t know how it’ll start.”

  “Start?”

  “Yeah, I mean, are you gonna just walk up to random people and ask to have sex? Do you have people you already do these things with?”

  “Random people? Ha ha!” His laugh surprised me. I felt he should’ve been a bit more concerned about my feelings, and I probably scowled at him.

  “Well, I’m just not sure how all of it will work, if you know what I mean.” I wanted him to help and support me, I guess. I was waiting for him to guide me.

  “There’s nothing that has to work so much as we just need to figure out what you’re willing to try and get started. For me, there’s nothing I don’t want, so let me know how you want to start and we can. We don’t have to start immediately, but at some point we’ll need to kick things off.”

  “I’m pretty nervous…I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up, or that you’ll want something that I can’t do. I have lines I can’t cross, I think…”

  “Well, we’ll have to see how that goes, I guess. I want to be sure to honor your boundaries.” He was looking out to the street. We were at the edge of the park and the Upper West Side. A soft breeze was blowing, and it felt so luxurious. I loved the nature to the one side of me, and the Gothic stone-and-iron to the other…like I was balanced on a knife blade, between two worlds. I guess I was, really. I was sitting on the boundary between two worlds—my old, simple, plain, uncomplicated life and a brave, fascinating, scary, dark world I knew nothing of.

  And there I sat.

  During the last few weeks, I had spent much of my time trying to think about all the possible scenarios, and what I would and would not be able to do. There wasn’t anybody I could speak with…how do you ask a friend about something like this? Yet, I knew I needed more information. I went to the public library and found a few books on fetishes, but nothing was helpful. I considered myself completely he
terosexual, so I thought I would draw the line at lesbianism. It seemed so foreign to my life that I felt that was a line I would never cross. I had no idea…

  Other than that, much of the work seemed to be on David’s side. Swinging? Orgies? Those were things he would have to set up and execute, and I could opt out of anything I didn’t like. I didn’t know what to expect, and I didn’t know how to take the first steps myself.

  I was not horrified, though, as many people might have been. I didn’t consider anything so horrific that I would lose my mind (or perspective) if the subject were proposed. Certain fetishes didn’t excite me in any way, but at the same time I didn’t consider anything I read about to be gross or evil. Those judgments didn’t exist within me.

  “So how about you, Rachel? How did it go with Stella?”

  “It went well…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah…I brought in all my poems and a few short pieces. She read through many of them with me. She showed me what would be marketable and what would not. I signed a development contract, and have been working on more poems.”

  “Yeah? That’s great! Did you get a check when you signed?”

  “A small one. A thousand dollars. Poetry doesn’t sell that much, after all. But I’ve written several more poems while you were gone. I sent the latest to her yesterday. Hoping to hear back in a few days.”

  “You should’ve delivered them in person!”

  “Oh, I hate to be pushy. She can read them at her leisure. That’ll also give me some time to write a few more. I think I’ll need eight to ten more poems to finish a good collection, at least as she viewed it.”

  “Well, I think it’s fantastic, Rachel. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I would’ve never even started if it wasn’t for you, David. Thank you.”

  “No, don’t thank me.”

  “But I must…”

  “No, it’s nothing really…you wrote those poems.”

  “Without your push and introduction to Stella, I would still only be dreaming about writing. Now, I’m putting together something that could get published.”

  “Well, you’re more than welcome.” His smile was bright and warm.

  “Well, I really want to thank you in a special way.” As I said this, I reached over and put my hand on his crotch and began to massage him. Immediately he stiffened. He looked me in the eyes, then leaned his head back and began to breathe steadily. I continued to stroke him, and he became even harder.

  Breathily, he said, “I think we’d better go back to my place…”

  “No,” I said, “not yet.” I unzipped his pants, and found his hard manhood. I began to stroke him faster and squeeze between strokes. He looked at me knowingly, and then closed his eyes. I could see him flushing.

  I scanned the area. There were a few people in the general area, but nobody was watching us. Central Park West was a little busy, but our bench was below street level, and there were some trees between the road and us. I felt my courage rising.

  Could I go further? Could I do this? He looked so handsome with his head back. His jagged face and lithe body were so perfect. I was so excited that I was giving him pleasure. I wanted to do more. I wanted him to have what he wanted. My bit of reading on fetishes taught me just a couple of things, and I was going to use those. I was going to get things started tonight. I was going to go places I never thought I could. I decided in that very moment.

  Was this for him or for me? If you had asked me then, I would have told you it was entirely for him. If you ask me today, I will share ownership. Maybe I wanted this as much as he did. Maybe more.

  David looked at me with surprise when I pulled him out. His head swiveled around, and he had a slightly panicked look on his face. Good! Maybe he wasn’t as adventurous as he thought he was. Maybe I could surprise him!

  And he was so big and thick! It took some maneuvering to get him out of his pants. But when it was free, I wanted it. I wanted to pleasure him. I wanted him to have a taste of the immense pleasure he had given me. I wanted him to see I could be bold and adventurous. I wanted to show him that I wasn’t afraid. I, too, could be out on the knife’s edge; I too had courage.

  I could have wings and fly.

  I lowered my head down, and took him into my mouth.

  I felt so excited! The danger! The fear of being caught! What would everybody say? In my head, I was expecting a police car to screech up or whistles to blow. But I wasn’t going to stop. And I began to take him in earnest. I took him as deeply into my mouth as I could. He put his hand on the back of my head, and applied just a bit of pressure. I was taking all I could, and letting him hit the back of my throat. It felt so nasty and dirty and exciting and sexy. I wanted him to come in my mouth at that very moment.

  David was moaning now. I could feel him getting thicker the more I took him in, and it became harder to perform on him. His head was back, and his lidded eyes looked to the stars. When I could, I scanned around, and nobody was looking at us. We were out in public and yet in our own world. People were busy going to dinner or taking a walk or on their way to visit friends. They didn’t know a man and woman were sinfully at work on this quiet bench.

  By now, I was much more excited myself. While I thought this moment was going to be for David, I was incredibly turned on. The more I thought about someone catching us or even someone watching us, the hotter and wetter I became. The risk and anticipation of it were very erotic.

  Danger. Fear. If you haven’t tried them, you’re missing some incredible sensory sensations. Natural aphrodisiacs were pumping through my veins.

  I had wanted David to finish in my mouth, but I became so aroused I couldn’t control myself. I slid my right hand down, and then up my long skirt. I was already very wet. When I touched myself, I knew I was already close. I was smoldering with pent-up pressure and excitement. It had been weeks, after all, but it was more than that—I was taking control. I was leading us into danger. And I liked that feeling.

  I had to have him in me.

  David looked up when I released him from my mouth. I quickly jerked my panties down and then off. I moved my long peasant skirt as I climbed on top of him. He didn’t look shocked at all. Instead, he held me off just a second while he slid his pants down a bit. I positioned myself over him, and then I took him inside me.

  I was instantly near a thunderous orgasm. I was already shaking from the intensity. My knees were on either side of him, and I grabbed onto his shoulders. I began to rock and squeeze him. He felt so large in me again, but I was so ready for him I knew I was soaking his crotch. I was so close I began to ride with speed, and I was quickly grabbing the undulations of fire that ran through me. I looked down, and David’s eyes were staring at me like he would devour me right there. He began talking to me through gritted teeth.

  “That’s it, baby…fuck my cock…fuck me with that hot, wet pussy…”

  I was so intensely energized that his words put me over the edge. I leaned my head back and gasped my intense, burning orgasm. My brain and body were on fire, no matter the cool breeze blowing on me. I wanted to shriek, but held that back. I knew my gasps weren’t much quieter though. I bit my lip hard, and grunted and panted like I was sprinting.

  And a funny thing happened. I began to secretly hope that someone would catch us. That’s right! I wanted someone to walk up and shout at us. I wanted the police to be called. I wanted to be vilified and ridiculed. I wanted to be humiliated. I wanted the world to know I was a whore…a slut…the type of girl who would have sex in Central Park with a man she hardly knew. I wanted that ridicule. I wanted to be that girl. I grabbed on to the dark side, and rode it.

  While still burning in my climax, I yanked open the top buttons of my blouse in a fit of passion. I was lost…I was not there. Someone else was doing this. I lifted up my bra and stuffed my breasts into his mouth. The cool night air hit my nipples and kept my orgasm burning. It would not stop! David chewed on my hard nipples fiercely, and I let out a shriek
of pleasure and pain. I was riding so hard now I was afraid I would hurt him or me.

  And I wanted it all. I smashed his face against my breasts. I was grinding my body onto his. And still he talked to me…still he growled at me.

  “Fuck that cock, Rachel! Fuck that cock hard! Everybody can see you! Everybody knows what you’re doing!” His voice was too loud but I didn’t care.

  I slowly came down from my fierce, massive climax…and I was trembling…weak…but the intensity was still there, and I knew I could get another one. I was lost in dark passion. I had surrendered to the darkness…and I had liked it.

  And then his head pulled away…his eyes rolled back, and I knew he was close. The sight of his beautiful face flushing with pleasure put me over the edge again, and I immediately began another…just seconds after my last one. I was riding and sweating and grunting and trembling, and then the fire began. As the hot pulses of pleasure rolled through me, I threw back my head and let out an uncontrolled shriek. Full volume. I didn’t care…I was in this moment and there were no others. I heard David grunting hard and his burning wetness filled me. I wanted all of it, and rode him with all I had. I was only tingling and burning and shrieking. I lost all control…I was only my climax.

  And then I heard voices. My vision was blurred with tears, but I looked around and saw people looking and pointing at us. I could see people moving.

  “C’mon, Rachel, let’s go…”

  I climbed off onto wobbly legs, and felt his issue running down my thighs. He pulled up his pants and put his slick penis away, while I hastily buttoned my blouse. And then he grabbed my hand and we took off running. I was dizzy and could barely control my legs; they moved without my volition. His hard grip pulled me forward. Despite this mad moment, I started laughing. I was trying to button my blouse, but with my breasts bouncing and swaying I was having little luck. Yet I found it immensely humorous…running through beautiful, tree-lined paths, with David’s semen running down my thighs. Breasts swinging, blouse open. Who was doing this? Me? It was some insane burlesque, not my life. Nobody who knew me would have believed that I was in this situation in this moment.