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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1315579-Leaving-The-Nest
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Other · #1315579
we all do things we don't understand
I’m a bad person.
         I thought I’d said it in my head but apparently I was mistaken. Jen fidgeted uneasily and looked at me with a questioning frown.
         “Why you say that?” She asked me
         “I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just thinking it and it came out. Don’t worry about it.”
         “You know you can tell me.”
         “Yeah, it’s nothing don’t worry about it.” I left it at that looking straight ahead.
         The truth was I didn’t want to tell her why I had thought at the moment I was a bad person. The thought had occurred to me just as I looked at her naked body illuminated only by the dim glow from the radio. I was a bad person for abusing her body, for taking it as mine and no care for the soul that was kept inside it. Primal urges were what brought me here. It was one of those days where I woke up needing desperately to get laid.
         I don’t care about Jen. She cares about me and I know this. At this moment I can feel how she cares. On my chest her hands trace a slow path. Her head nuzzles into security on my sweaty shoulder. All I can manage to do is sit still and let her leave it out her dream of me actually caring for her.
         I let her imagine I cared for her and this backseat adventure would turn into anything more than just a fuck. That’s all it would be, another tally on the belt, another notch in the bedpost. It would serve as another reminder to me why I am so fucked up of a person.
         With a kiss on her forehead I reassure her all is well. The skin on her head is cold to me.  While we had sex I’d close my eyes pretending I was with someone I cared for. Pretending I was making love rather than violating Jen’s trust was all I could do to not stop and drive her home.
         It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty. No, she was a good looking girl. This night had come from me originally seeing her in the hallways and the tightness of her body. My male prying eyes had undressed her and seen the solid curves of her tits and her hip bones leading the way to a clean vagina. I never really wanted her, I wanted her body.  Imagine a thief looking at a piece of jewelry unaccounted for. The urge to take it was just too much.
         Slyly I befriended her. How I always find a way to initiate conversations is beyond me. This time the magic opportunity had come at the music store. She was looking at a new cd, some shitty band I noticed. She kept smiling at me since she could tell I was looking at her. I just played it calm and smiled right back. Eventually she looked at another cd one that I knew and I told her it wasn’t a very good choice. After that, introductions had followed, hellos in the hallway, exchanging of phone numbers and internet. It progressed to the point where she trusted me with secrets, told me her personal life. Believing I was different eventually led her to want to sleep with me. I hadn’t taken advantage of it though. I wanted to play the game as long as I could.
         When it came down to it I genuinely enjoyed talking to her. I could sit down and listen to her petty problems about her friends saying this and that and get lost in the simplicity of it. The conversations really didn’t interest me but the world she lived in where the biggest accomplishment of the day was a new, juicy piece of gossip did appall and fascinate at the same time
         Now I had broken that trust by telling her she wouldn’t just be another person I slept with. I told her that wouldn’t be the case. It’s all done and she is sitting naked desperately holding onto me and I realize I did lie. At the time I think I actually believed my own bullshit. Sometimes it is easier that way.
         I could sit and rake my mind for why I couldn’t, like a normal person, just give in and let myself care for her. She was beautiful, well-liked, and trustworthy. Three qualities you rarely see put together into one person. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to just care about her. As much as I tried even during our most intimate moments of sex I couldn’t look at her and feel that she was what I needed.
         Worse, I didn’t feel guilty. Some distant part of my brain told me I should, it told me I should feel like the bastard I understood myself to be at this point but I didn’t feel that guilt. The only thing I felt was dirty.
         I wished to wash her emotions off of me. Nothing more than to brush away the taste of her full lips pressed hard against mine in deep passion. I needed to shut away the sounds of her passionate cries to the roof of my car. I wanted to lock out the sight of her eyes pleading, searching mine for a semblance of the love that she felt in that moment.
         She probably knew I didn’t care about her. Jen was a lot of things but a complete fool wasn’t one of them. A person can feel emotions through a kiss. They can feel the electricity of sharing a moment with another. When it’s only you returning the compassion it’s similar to kissing a block of wood, lifeless and empty of emotion.
         The windows to my car were fogged up and I was glad for that. I had a fear that the world would look in on me. My head held the thought of a group of onlookers studying me in white lab coats and shaking their head in disgust at the results of the wretched experiment. It needed to be done though Bob, one of the men would say while scribbling frantically onto his notepad, for the sake of science you know. Bob would shake his head sadly, I know what you mean Timmy, I just wish there was some cleaner way, maybe a more human test subject.  That is all I could be was inhuman. It was inhuman to give into your urges, sex was a sin. That was what the church taught us, it was what was engrained into our confused mines as children. The act of making love shouldn’t be spoken of, thought of, or dreamed of. Civilized people didn’t have sex out of wedlock. Hell, if they did this world would be a constant orgy! The streets would be a zoo of hormone full teenagers naked on the streets coupling with whoever they could find near them. The world would be mayhem!
         A savage, it didn’t seem too unappealing to me. Running around naked, living off the jungle, my spirit governed by a mystic view of the world, that didn’t seem like that bad of a deal. Being civilized feels like being shackled. You try to run free but you stumble. I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking about.
         I looked down at my self and almost laughed. One leg was stuck in a pant leg. My briefs were pulled down exposing my now limp penis that sat graceless against my leg. I pushed Jen away for a moment enjoying the freedom from her grip. My briefs came on and I fought with the pants to put them on in the confines of the backseat. Sex in a backseat wasn’t anything special. It never could be making love. It would always be a place to fuck.
         “Are we leaving?” Jen said somewhat frightened
         “No, not yet, just felt weird with my shit hanging out that’s all” She laughed and nestled back up against me.
         I pushed her over to the side and lay down the best I could on my seat. She nestled into her spot next to me and found my hand with her own. I continued to let her live out her dream and clasped her hand into mine.
         I wonder what it was she was thinking at the moment. Could it be she imagined we were in a room overlooking the ocean lying on top of the covers staring out at the waves as they played underneath the night sky? I’m sure she wasn’t fantasizing about the truth of the situation. Somehow I didn’t think she was imagining herself in a cramped backseat, hot and sweaty pulled over onto the side of the road. I could bet her idea of making love didn’t involve a seat belt buckle prodding her back or a half full bottle of dip sitting next to her head.
         Why was she here? The thought that she could see me as something special was foreign to me. It didn’t seem real. How could she really see me as anything but what I really was? I felt compelled to ask her but I knew I couldn’t outright ask.
         “Did you have fun babe?” I ask back into the role she liked me in. I should be an actor I thought, I spend so much time saying bullshit.
         “Yes! It was amazing. Did you?”
         “Yeah, it was fun, you were great.” I said squeezing her hand gently.
         Jen pulled herself up to me and kissed me gently, with her free hand she placed her palm on my cheek. I kissed her back behind closed eyes imaging the ideal girl.
         “You know what I’ve been wondering about?” I asked after a few moments of silence.
         “What?”
         “What do we really want? You know? What is it you really want?”
         She laughed anxiously, “I guess I don’t know. I never really thought about it.”
         “No dreams, no aspirations?”
         “I guess not, I’m kind of just going with the flow.”
         That was strange to me. Just going with the flow, I always found when I just went with the flow I ended up exactly where I didn’t want to be. Everybody really wanted something, some dream, some goal, people who went with the flow were just to lazy to reach down and find it.
         “What do you want?” she asked
         “I guess I don’t know either. I am just trying to find what makes me happy.” I really did know. I just didn’t want to divulge to her what it was. The vagueness of that answer helped fuel her fantasy of an “us” and she took it as she made me happy. In some twisted way she did but for the most she made me realize just how unhappy I really was.
         It was like this with all the girls I’d had sex with. I was always eager, nearly ripping off their belts and ripping the buttons of their pants. I kissed them passionately before we had sex I showed their bodies the love and intimacy they desired. Once I was inside though, I felt hollow. The big understanding I was so close to finding as their pants came off ended up being just a mirage in the desert. After I was done I always felt inferior, no big truth, no huge insight. All I got was a busted load.
         “What time is it?” I asked Jen
         She fumbled around her clothes thrown across my car violently for her cell phone. A gasp escaped her mouth as she saw the time and she quickly began to throw on her bra.
         I looked at the phone and saw the time was 9:23. She was supposed to be home 20 minutes ago. Also I noticed the missed calls and idly went through them. Three from home. I felt for a second as if a brief miracle had occurred. The hand of god had moved the time ahead to save me from further staying here.
         Without another word I hopped up front and started the ignition. I found my shirt hanging from the gearshift and promptly donned it. Jen crawled up to the front seat still struggling to throw her shirt on. She still didn’t have any underwear on and looking at her exposed made me remember for a moment why I was here.
         The defrost was blaring and before doing anything else I conducted the necessity of finding the right music. Something dramatic I thought. Satisfied with a slow song about heartache I reached in back and grabbed her underwear handing it to her. She smiled at me and came next to me and kissed me. She ran her hand down my pants and grabbed my dick which despite my will was becoming hard again instantly. She caressed it lovingly and I let my hands wander to her center. No matter how much I didn’t care about her, I loved the warm sensation I felt as my fingers entered. I couldn’t help but love making her breath grow heavy and her body tremble from pleasure. Contradicting myself was normal. I didn’t want to be here with her, but this is what I wanted. I wanted to feel good and this was a momentary release of tensions like a drug. My imagination pretended she was someone else. That was because my mind realized she wasn’t what I wanted. My body acted on its own accord, it let this happen because it was what it wanted. I was two separate beings.
         With a whisper to her ear I reminded her we had to leave. What I didn’t say was I didn’t want her dad waiting outside with a shotgun waiting to blow off the tools that degraded his daughter.
         She nodded ok but continued to play with me. With a loving push I put her head down to my lap. Looking up at me she gave a pleading looking. I nodded yes and threw the car into drive pulling away from our secret little nest.
         I knew I wouldn’t finish. It felt good driving with her giving me head. It made me feel like a king, a champion who rescued the damsel. The rush of power I got from knowing I could bend her to my will was exhilarating. 
         She continued to give me a blowjob. I just turned the radio up louder.
         I am a bad person.
© Copyright 2007 drkcrow (drkcrow024 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1315579-Leaving-The-Nest