Sinful

The movie finished so my fiancé and I decided to head home. It was a dark night, nearly 10 o'clock and the moon was full, illuminating the shadowy parts of the street. The city was buzzing as more people were coming out to enjoy the nightlife. We had just finished watching Red Sparrow. I got to see Jennifer Lawrence nude in this film and let me say she has a magnificent body. There were quite a few erotic scenes that got me feeling a bit hot in the Netherlands—I actually enjoyed the raunchy parts of the movie, that felt so real, so raw. And there were some grotesque scenes that had me too scared to look. The platform where we waited for the train to come was desolate. When the train arrived, there was hardly anyone riding it. On the ride home, I had one earbud in and my fiancé had the other one as we listened to music, our fingers intertwined.

We decided on the way that we would pick up a bottle of liquor. “You can pick whichever one you want baby,” I said to my fiancé. He decided upon a bottle of Hennessy. You did that on purpose, I thought to myself with a sly smirk on my face. He knows when I drink Henny, I can get a bit open-minded.

Finally, we arrived home. My fiancé, Jase, grabbed some shot glasses from the kitchen cabinet and brought it to the living room. We perched up on the couch and proceeded to take shots with The Office on the TV for background noise. We were drinking and talking and it was nice. I could feel a warm feeling in my heart. I love this man, am in love with him and I know that I have found my home.

"Babe, remember when we met," I said.

"Of course, I do," he said. "You came out of nowhere, started talking to me and then you took me to a funeral. How could I forget that?"

"It was the burial, actually. I was at the bar during the funeral."

We laughed at that. We were awful.

~

We met four years ago, in Puerto Rico. We were both staying at the Sheraton Puerto Rico Hotel & Casino. He was sitting at the bar when I noticed him. I could tell he was American—Black, actually. There are a lot of Puerto Ricans that have brown skin in Puerto Rico, but you can distinguish between who is Puerto Rican and who is American.

The majority of Puerto Rican men have this pompous attitude. They call it confidence while I call it arrogance. But Jase didn’t have that attitude. He radiated confidence, yes, but he was quiet and unpretentious while he drank. Jase was quite alluring, so I went straight to the bar and sat right next to him.

He looked at me with intensity. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown. I could barely make out his pupils. His hair was cut low and his beard was neat and clean. I sensed he had just gotten a shave at the barber. He was slightly hunched over, his shoulders and back looked massive. And he was wearing only black—a black polo shirt, black ripped jeans, and black Nike sneakers.

I made a crack at that to break the ice. "It's a little hot here to be wearing all black, don’t ya think?"

He looked me up and down and my heart skipped a beat. I felt like I was on a stage in front of a million people naked. I don't normally start up chit-chat.

"It's not too bad in here. The AC's on," he said.

I had gotten so flustered I didn’t even notice there was cool air circulating.

"Right. My bad. I just meant like it's Puerto Rico, ya know? Outside it's hot."

Woo. This is not going where I want it to. Strike me down now, please.

"True. But we're not outside right now," he said.

It felt like the conversation wasn't going anywhere. My icebreaker was a complete failure. I needed a drink.

"Bartender. I'll have what he's having," I said.

The bartender poured me a glass of Hennesy. No ice. I finished it in one gulp hoping it would give me the nerve I so desperately needed.

"So, where are you from?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, kinda. You just look like you don’t quite belong."

He chuckled. "I'm from Boston."

"No way. Me too."

"Small world."

Indeed, it is. Boston really isn't that big of a city but it isn't miniscule either. You could live there your whole life and there would still be people you’ve never met; however, those people may know someone you know.

"My name is Jase," he said.

"Phoebe," I said. "It's nice to meet you, Jase."

"Likewise, Phoebe."

"What brings you to Puerto Rico?" I asked.

"Just celebrating with my friend. We've had a good year of putting away the bad guys. And it's cold in Boston so we figured let's go somewhere warm and just relax, get away from work. How about you? You said you're from Boston too, so I don't imagine you live here."

"I'm here visiting family," I said.

"Why aren't you staying with them?"

"I never do. I prefer staying in a hotel and telling everyone I went on vacation."

"Classic," he said as he waved his eyebrows up. "Bartender, can I get another drink for the lady and I?"

The bartender filled us up some more glasses. We sat at the bar for about an hour discussing the minor details of our lives. That day I learned that we had more in common than I would've imagined. We both had single parents, were an only child, and had cats growing up.

Our talking died down a bit when we realized how drunk we were. And something was different in the atmosphere. I could no longer feel the cool air from the AC. All I felt was heat. Heat coming from my body and his. My nether regions were throbbing wanting to be explored by him and I could see that he too was feeling enticed.

"Wanna get outta here?" I asked. "Tabs on me, don’t worry about it."

"Sure, why not," he said.

We ended up at a burial. A burial for my grandfather, in fact.

"Not exactly where I had in mind," Jase said. "What are we doing here? Do you even know these people?"

"Yeah. That's my family. My grandfather died," I said. "Will you stay here with me? I know we just met and you don't know me but it would feel better if you stayed."

He looked hesitant and worried. "Yeah, sure. I'll stay."

We joined my family at the grave. They looked up and scowled at me for bringing someone they didn't know.

"You missed the funeral, Phoebe. And you brought a stranger with you," my grandmother said to me in Spanish.

"Sorry. I was at a bar," I said back in Spanish.

"Ay dios mio," my grandmother said. "What is wrong with you, mija?"

"Mami, por favor. Estoy aqui. (Mommy, please. I am here.)"

Jase and I stood there, arms almost touching, watching my grandfather's casket be put down. It was nice having Jase here with me, even though we didn't know each other, something still felt right about having him there.

When the burial finished I didn't go back to the hotel with Jase.

"Are you going with your family?" Jase asked me.

"Yeah, gotta show support and stuff, ya know," I said.

"Yeah." He stood there awkwardly, probably trying to figure out what to say. I don't blame him, this was awkward enough.

"When you get back to Boston, call me. We can go out for drinks, you're paying," I said with a smile.

He smiled too. "Sure, I'd like that."

We hugged each other and parted ways.

~

After about three or four shots, I was definitely feeling nice. I get up from my seat and move on top of Jase. I’m straddling him. I was barely sitting on him yet, but I could sense he was already aroused. That pleased me. I love having that control over him. I went in for a kiss and he reciprocated. Our lips were locked and tongues entwined. His hands were roaming my body, his fingertips leaving goosebumps where they touched. My hands were interlaced with his hair, pulling him closer to me. He picked me up, brought me to our bedroom and laid me on our bed.

The only thing separating our bodies was my lace nightgown; I had nothing underneath it and my lover was already bare. I took him in with my eyes. He is beautiful. About six feet tall with a broad frame and fit physique. He has a lovely mocha complexion, pouty, sensual lips, and a furry beard. He’s not the typical fantasy guy all chiseled with big muscles, but he’s the man of my dreams.

“Give me your hand,” Jase said. I do as he says. Jase grabs my hand, kisses it, and cuffs my wrist to the bedpost with a handcuff. He does the same with the other. I cannot move. I feel a rush of excitement through my body. Jase grabs my lingerie and moves it up my body, above my breasts. He can see me now. He has pure seduction written all over his face.

Jase comes over to me, spreads my legs so he can be between them and leans towards my face. Our mouths meet again, surging with passion and lust... Or is it love? I want him now more than ever. Jase stops kissing me and reaches over to the nightstand to grab something. It’s the magic wand—a vibrator we bought a few nights ago. It’s about the size of a ruler and purple with a round, white head. This will be my first time using it.

Jase turns on the wand. It makes a low humming noise. He continues to kiss me and places the wand on my left nipple and then the right. They're stimulated now so Jase goes to them and flicks at them with his tongue. I can’t help but squirm. He moves the wand down to my sex and continues sucking on my nipples. The vibration down there feels incredible. Jase moves the wand and uses his mouth. He moves his tongue in circles around my clit. I'm moving with him, grinding my hips to the rhythm of his flicks. He goes back and forth with the wand and his tongue. I cannot control the moans coming out of my mouth. I cannot take it anymore. I'm so hot, so ready to explode. "You wanna cum baby?" Jase said.

I nod my head, I cannot speak. "Cum for me," he says.

And I do. I fly high above the stars and let out a satisfied yelp, the pleasure is so great I do not want to come down. I'm not finished yet and Jase has barely begun. He turns the wand off and sets it down, moves between my legs and enters. His big dick slides deep inside me. He moves soft at first, a little slow. I like it but it's not what I want.

"Fuck me," I tell him.

"I don't wanna be made love to baby, I want you to fuck me."

He starts moving a little faster and going a little harder. I fuck him back. I position my legs to hold my body up and move with him. We are one motion. With each stroke I feel it building up inside me again, I'm ready to soar once more. One. Two. Three. I exclaim with delight and he does too. He's holding me tight as he cums inside of me. We are both out of breath and sweating. Jase uncuffs my hands but I have no desire to move. I am content with laying there with him.

~

In the morning, Jase is up before I am. He's already dressed in his uniform for work. "Rise and grind sunshine," Jase says to me as I walk in the kitchen. I smile. He's always so full of life in the morning. I, on the other hand, am not. I wake up every morning groggy, drool on the side of my face, and with swollen eyes. "You look as beautiful as ever," Jase said. Does he not see how I look right now? Seriously, it's scary. There is a cup of tea ready for me on the island and breakfast is being made. I sit down and begin sipping my tea. "How did you sleep?" Jase asked.

"So, so. No dreams," I answered. "How about you?"

"Me? I slept like a baby," Jase said while wiggling his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. "Is breakfast almost done? I'm starving."

"Sure is, baby," Jase said. He serves our plates and we eat together. A few moments later Jase is finished. "Alright, I gotta get going to work, love. I'll see your fine self later," Jase says. He gives me a kiss on my forehead and heads for the door.

"I love you!" I yell at him.

"I love you more!" He shouts back and he's out the door.

I clean up a bit and go to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. Please protect him today, I think to myself, secretly praying to someone to keep him safe. Jase is a police officer. I worry all the time that one day he might not make it back home to me. I shouldn't think like that but I know the risks that come with the job. He's great at what he does and his partner, Lukas, always has his back. They're best friends, have been since they started their police academy training. I guess I should be a little more optimistic, they'll watch out for one another... I hope.

I finish getting ready and leave the house. I work part-time at Bunker Hill Community College teaching Introduction to Fiction. I adore my work—I relish being able to help students create masterpieces, oh and how much I yearn to read the final product. When I'm not at work I spend most of my time reading—reading papers I assigned and reading romantic novels. Who doesn't enjoy a great novel with love and all that jazz? Sure isn't me 'cause I love that shit.

~

I enter my classroom; some students are already there. The classroom is small, the walls a beige color, and there are too many desks crammed in here, leaving little room to walk freely.

"Hello," I greet them.

"Hi, Phoebe," one of the students, Kade, greets me back.

"Kade, I've told you countless times do not call me by my first name. I am your professor, please show a little respect."

Kade slouches in his seat, embarrassed at my reprimanding him.

The rest of the students stroll in. "Good morning. As you all know you had a creative story to write over the weekend," I say. They all nod in agreement.

"Would anyone like to share their story?" Not a single budge.

"If no one volunteers, I'll pick someone, anyone." I always have to threaten them with this. It's a bit ridiculous that we're halfway through the semester, all of the students are capable adults and they still don’t want to volunteer.

A hand pops up in the air. It's Daniel. He is always first to share but not until after I say I'll pick a student randomly.

"Okay Daniel. You're up. You can come to the front of the class or stay in your seat, it's up to you."

He comes to the front—loves being the center of attention. Daniel has a light complexion, is about 5'10", has dirty blonde hair, and looks like a gym rat.

"Alright, so my story was inspired by a crazy dream I had. It's wicked scary and real good," Daniel said, grinning wide. " Here goes."

He saw her. A petite woman sitting at the end of the train-cart. She saw him, too and smiled. Every woman does—the man knows he is attractive enough to be noticed by any woman.

The woman had dark brown hair, medium length sitting on her shoulders and small breasts—he could see through her white shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples were hard, that aroused him a bit but not much. She looked like she was of Latino origin. He could tell her hips were wide and she most likely had a firm buttocks, one he would enjoy gripping.

The train was approaching the next stop when the woman got up from her seat. Yup. Fat ass. The man watched her as she walked towards the door. She filled out her black pencil skirt nicely. When the woman stepped off train, the man followed. Far enough behind so she wouldn’t sense someone was behind her but he was close enough so as not to lose her.

It was gloomy and starless out. A few dim street lights were on, but most were broken. There weren't any people around and all of the houses were pitch-black. Everyone must either be sleeping or not home.

Why are women always walking alone at night, not on their guard? They make is so easy. The man thought to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

The woman took a turn down an unlit back street. She must not be scared. This should be fun. The man looked around, saw still no one was around and proceeded to get closer.

The woman could hear footsteps that she didn't hear before. She started to walk a little faster. Still, she could hear the footsteps, someone is right behind me, she thought. She was scared now so she ran. The man ran after her. The duffel bag he was carrying was slowing him down, he drops it to gain speed. She is almost at the end of the street, where there are lights are on and the city is wide awake... almost there when she feels a force grab her and she is thrust back into the darkness.

The man hits her hard on the head and she falls unconscious. He carries her further down the dark alley. He finds a dumpster and positions it to block them from view of the bright street to his right. The man pulls out a knife and rips the woman's clothes off of her. He leaves her underwear on. The moonlight glistened on her bare skin. The man gets up and retrieves his duffel bag. It's a small one, just big enough to carry a few things he would need. He returns to the woman, excited to play. He opens his bag and pulls out rope. He used the rope to bond the woman's hands and feet together. He pulls out a mouth gag. It's a black ball and has a belt around it to tie on the woman's head and keep it in place. He puts it on her.

There. She looks perfect.

As he admires his work, the woman starts to stir. She wakes up in a panic, unable to move or speak. She starts crying and is trying to scream for help but it comes out as a muffled gasp. The man's mouth is watering. Now, he is hard. The man reaches in his bag once more and comes out with a condom in his hand. He puts the condom on and starts caressing the woman. She closes her eyes. She is terrified. The man turns her over onto her stomach, pulls her underwear down, and inserts himself into her. She is dry and uncomfortably tight. She is crying harder now and writhing in pain. Although he is in pain as well, he is enjoying himself. He continues for a few moments more, gripping her buttocks and holding her breast.

He finishes. He doesn't make a sound or any expression. He is in control and would like to keep it that way. He pulls himself out of the woman and stretches out his arm to grab his knife. He grabs the woman by her hair and yanks her head up. He places the knife against her throat. Her crying has grown worse. She knows she is going to die. There is no hope, no person coming to her rescue, no escape from this man—no, this monster. The knife moves swiftly across her neck as the woman lets out one more tear. The blood spews out onto the ground. The man lets go of the woman's hair and her head drops to the floor.

The loud thump noise her head makes is only slightly dampened by the pool of blood that has already formed.

My hand is gripping the edge of my desk when Daniel stops reading. I don't know what to say to him. He looks at me, waiting for a response.

"You were right, Daniel. That was scary," I say. The class laughs nervously. They are all shocked by the reading as well.

"I told ya so," Daniel said. "What? Did you think I was lying? This was a pretty fucking scary dream, Professor."

"Language," I said, scolding him.

"Sorry." Daniel shrugs his shoulders.

"You can have a seat. Would anyone else like to share?"

"No way." "Not after him. Are you serious?" "I don't have anything like that."

"Okay, settle down. That's fine. Daniel took most of the class period anyway. Hand in your writings, you're free to go home. I'll return them to you Thursday."

In all honesty, I didn’t want anyone else to read their story. Daniel's was enough.

~

I spend the next few hours in my office grading papers. It's cozy here. I have a comfortable brown suede couch against one side of the wall and my desk is facing across from it. A few pictures of my fiancé and I are on my desk, as well as some of me with my mom. I have a mug filled with green tea to my right and my desk lamp is on my left.

Some of my students wrote about vampires and werewolves, others family struggles. Daniel, however, chose to write about a rapist and a murderer. I have to admit that is a twisted nightmare I wouldn’t want to wake up from. I don't know if I should give him an "A" for being so different from the other students or make him write a new paper for it being so unethical... I think I'll just give him the "A". He was creative.

I heard a knock on my door.

"Come in," I said.

It's Jane and Alec. The only two friends I have. We met here, at work five years ago. They just came right up to me and started chatting me up. I actually didn't plan to make any friends, I'm not very good at keeping these sorts of relationships solid. I tend to stop communicating with people and drifting apart from them. But not with Jane and Alec. These two wouldn't let me do that if I tried.

"Hey, Phoebe," Jane said.

"Hey guys. What's up?"

"Nothing's up. Your two best friends can't just come visit you?" Alec said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Of course, you can. I just thought something might be on y'all mind since there usually is something on it."

"Nope. Nada," Alec said.

"And you, Jane?"

"Eh, I got nothing either. Just wanted to see you is all," Jane answered.

"Alrighty then. I guess you can hang out here. But I'm grading some papers so please don’t be too distracting."

"You have my word," they both said at once while holding their right hands over the left side of their chest and their left hands in the air.

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I will never understand why you guys always do that. You look like you're testifying in court and pledging allegiance to the flag."

"Well duh Phoebe, we're pledging to honor whatever we gave our word to," Alec said.

"Right. Except you guys always manage to keep me from doing my work."

"Well you're talking to us now, so who's really distracting you?" Jane said.

I stuck my tongue in my cheek. "Touche."

I continued grading papers and Jane and Alec scrolled on their phones. I swear they spend so much damn time on those things. And they wonder why they're always late returning graded assignments.

"Holy fuck," Jane said.

"What?" Alec asked.

I looked up, too, my interest piqued.

"Shit. The cops found a girl in a dumpster on Hamilton Street."

"Oh Jesus Christ," Alec said.

"Did they say what happened?" I asked.

"No. Cops aren't talking," Jane said.

I wonder if Jase and Lukas found this girl.

"If Jase tells me anything, I'll let you guys know."

"Cool. Perks of being friends with a girl who's married to a cop," Jane said.

Alec narrowed his eyes at her.

"What?" Jane asked him.

"They're engaged. Get it right, Jane," he said.

"It's okay, Alec. I mean we'll be married eventually there's really no harm in Jane saying it."

Alec shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I think I'm gonna head out. Got shit to grade or whatever," Alec announced as he got up from the couch and started for the door.

"Okay. Catch ya later," Jane said.

"See ya," I said as he walked out.

"So, it's just us girls now," Jane said.

"Yeah it is," I said with a smile. Jane smiled back. I could tell there was definitely something on this girls' mind.

"You look like you want to tell me something."

"I do. I really do," Jane said.

"So, tell me," I said.

Jane took a deep breath, sat up straight and then hunched her back. "Okay, so me and Alec hooked up. I didn't wanna say anything while he was here because I know he doesn’t wanna tell you but I need girl talk."

"Um, wow. I was wondering when that would happen to be honest," I said

"Wait, what? You were? Why?" Jane was dumbfounded.

"Well, I think you guys would look good together. And you’ve known each other for so long, you're both single, so why not move on to the next level?"

"I'm surprised you think that. I've liked Alec for a really long time but I've always been too afraid to make a move. I even thought he liked you at one point and you him, but then we met Jase and I saw the way you look at him. I just knew he was the one for you and there was no way you even remotely noticed Alec."

"Oh yeah girl, you got that right," I said.

Jane giggled. "I want that. What you and Jase have. You're so perfect for each other. So, I decided to take destiny into my own hands. I asked Alec out for drinks and I think he thought I meant as friends first because he said sure without even thinking about it. But at the bar, we had a few glasses and I don’t know we started flirting with each other and then one thing led to another and bam we were in my apartment on the living room floor just banging each other."

"Well, I'm happy you took charge. Nothing's better than a woman going after what she wants."

"You got that right." She smiled and sighed. There was more. I guess I'm gonna have to pry.

"What is it?"

"Huh?"

"Don’t do that. I know there's something wrong."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Spit it out. No use in holding it in."

"Okay, okay. It's just that Alec reacted kinda weird when I mentioned you being married to Jase."

Yeah. I noticed that, too. He did seem upset with her comment. I don't doubt that he has some sort of romantic feelings for me but I'm not about to crush her spirit. It's best to not plant these seeds in her mind and leave it up to him to tell her the truth.

"You know how he can be sometimes. Don't worry about it too much. You guys had a magical night, I'm sure he likes you a lot," I said.

"Yeah. You're right. He can be a weirdo at times," Jane said.

"All guys are weird, Jane. Get used to it, mama."

"True. I should get going though. I have assignments to grade, too. Thanks for the girl talk, Phoebe. Love ya."

"Anytime. Love ya, too."

~

When I arrive home, there's still sunlight beaming through the cracks of the branches on the trees. I bring my bag—full of my students' papers— inside the house and drop it off in the living room. I grab a water bottle from the pantry and go outside onto my front yard. I go to the porch swing that’s planted in the yard next to an old tree that’s been here for ages and sit in it. I bask in the sunlight radiating and wait for my fiancé to come home.