Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur

Part I.  And so it happened one day, on the way home from work, that she saw this pendant displayed discreetly in some antique shop window. It struck her as an object of Celtic origin, some mystic symbol of some nearly lost culture. She felt tempted to enter the shop to ask the price of that silver pendant, but she looked at her watch and decided to leave it for another moment.  Maurice would be home any minute and she wanted to be there before he arrived. He still had the keys to her flat, she should have asked for them after their breakup, he should have handed them to her without waiting to be asked but he had not. Their relationship seemed to be a long sequence of actions they should have taken, failing to do so at every turn. If they had succeeded, perhaps they would have built something for just themselves, a safe haven in a world they sometimes found alien to them. Each of them had kept to his fierce independence out of habit and also fear, fear of the unknown.  And thus, he still had her keys and she found it hard to resent it. Anyway, she knew he would never use them if not invited, only that this time she had invited him. So she hurried home to find him sitting on the doorsteps.  “Why didn’ t you use your keys?”“They aren’ t my keys any longer; they are yours again.”“But you can have them, what if I leave mine inside?”  This practical mind of hers had never failed to make him laugh before and it did not fail this time either, only that this time his laughter was sad and his eyes were dull all of a sudden. “You haven’t done that in ages, chances are you won’t start now.”  It was her turn to laugh, but she only smiled. They went in silently, to fix some dinner and sleep, just like an old couple, devoid of passion or maybe reluctant to fall into it again.  During dinner she told him about the pendant. He smiled.  “The triskelion? You saw one? Where?”“Coming from work, Is that its name?”“Yes, you saw a triskelion. Now, I don’ t understand why you liked it so much.”“I don’t know; there was something about it.”“It is a Celtic symbol; it represents the eternal flow of life. You know, birth, death, rebirth.”“Is that all?”“Don’t’ know you think it is enough?”  “I don’t know; when I saw it, I thought there was something to it, some darker meaning, something most people would know nothing about, but the initiated would use to identify one another…”“Your imagination is quite something, you know. But no, there is nothing to it.”“It is not my imagination; it is my perception.”“How can you be so sure of that kind of perception?”“How can you be not sure of your own perception?”  Their dialogues had always been this way. At the beginning of their relationship, masked by the trapping of desire and satiation, they had been exciting. As time had gone by, they had grown stale and mildly infuriating as was the case now. Both realized what fakes they had become to each other. The night had grown darker, and the kitchen lights were not bright enough to mask their sudden loneliness. He stood up to go.  “Good grief, aren’t you staying?”“No, I have to go. See you maybe and please, do not think of strange symbols, you have no use for them.”  His words sounded ominous in her small kitchen, and his parting looked only too familiar. He always left her and for some strange reason, she always kept her door open to him. Still, this time was different. She felt you could always wait for those who wanted to come back but not for those who were only too eager to leave you. She smiled, walked him to the door and then went to bed, to a sleep that brought little rest.  He left thinking he might come back one day but knowing chances were she would not be the same when he did, if only he did. Let her Fatih escort bayan look for the triskelion, he had the keys to the doors she would find in her way but had lost interest in unlocking them for her, she would have to do it alone.  In the meantime, he was only sure of a lust that she had not caused in him, it was a desire to grab someone who would ask no questions and have no name, someone who would do what he asked for, with no qualms.   And then he saw the woman ahead of him, a tired prostitute in a dark alley, she would do. A shady doorway would suffice, there was no need for more. Once he was spent, he looked into her eyes, they were of an uncertain colour and too wise for him to bear her glance. In an unexpected gesture, he kissed her hand and left her twice the amount she had stated as her price.  Part II  Morning came and she found herself once more alone. It was as if he had never existed in her life or in anyone’s life. If this was freedom, she did not find it to her liking. Still, she had work to do. She got up, showered, had breakfast and left. She lived only a few blocks from her office. On the way there, she saw the triskelion displayed in the window of the antique shop. It shone strangely in the early morning light and for some unknown reason, she felt excited. Surely it meant something else? Life, death, and rebirth were big topics indeed but somehow failed to impress her. She had never thought of life as something more than an imposition. Death was its natural conclusion and rebirth, something she doubted. Nothing of that sort moved her much, but that symbol had an appeal she found hard to resist.  On the way back home, she entered the shop, asked for the pendant. The salesperson smiled dimly when she said she would take it, without even asking for its price. She hurried home with it in her purse, the sky was overcast and she felt the need to be alone, wrapped up in her solitude, with only the triskelion for company.  The minute she got home, she looked for a chain, any chain to be able to hold the triskelion around her neck. She found one, some old thing her Mother used to wear to church on Sundays. When she removed the cross and hung the pendant, its wheel and arms gave her some insight, some notion it was not very different from the symbol she had removed, it spoke of a pain that was hard to bear, a pain able to consume body and soul.  And yet, when she finally put it on, she felt a sense of kinship with it, something she had never felt with any other trinket worn before. She became one with it, letting her hand rest on it at night, trying to feel its hidden story, the secrets carefully woven into the silver. It even had a name engraved on its back, Theodora. So, was it was obvious it had belonged to a woman of that name, who may have worn it countless times, out of love or out of duty or both…  She wondered why these ideas kept creeping into her mind, why she would think of this woman she had never met but who had worn this symbol of elusive meaning before she did…When she turned off her lights to get some sleep, the triskelion shone in the dark, guiding her dreams.  And then, suddenly, nothing seemed right any longer. She felt uneasy, eager to learn about Theodora, not knowing where to turn and also eager to see her ex-lover again. She could explain the urge that plagued her body as merely sexual, but a part of her told her she was wrong, this was no ordinary desire for sex, it was a primal hunger for something more she could not exactly place, power, surrender, delirium, an endless abyss into which she was falling, always falling.  Days went by too slowly, she felt. After the initial enthusiasm in Escort Fındıkzade her research, she felt disappointed. She could not even place the reason. It was as if she had envisioned something that had not even been there, she felt the pain of rejection, only that no one had rejected her, unless she considered her lover’s departure a rejection, but he didn’t count, he belonged to another time in her life. She felt something richer was eluding her and she let her tears run as a sad homage to the passing hours, the unfulfilled hours of her life.  The pursuit of Theodora was hard, not even one of her neighbours had heard of a woman by that name in the last twenty years. Still, there were many others who must have known her, only that she didn’t know them. Theodora seemed to hide in every corner, every doorway, in the thousand places where a name with a ring to it may hide. Theodora became her guide, her friend. To find her became her sole aim, her veiled stab at fulfillment, if not happiness.  And so, she wore her chain with the triskele every day and night full of longing. She could not tell what she longed for. She had lost all. She had lost love, or what passed for it. She had lost sex, her ex-lover had been her only partner and he had chosen to leave her, rendering her unworthy, unable to fulfill her purpose, which was to please him, something she had failed to do. She had thought herself free, but she had never been, no one who desires another so much can be free. His memory engulfed her, and the hours spent together, the ones spent apart, the longing, the absences, the need to feel safe and the sensation of being in danger, danger in losing herself.  The following evening, back from her office, she entered the antique shop, not knowing what to say and yet daring to expose what troubled her mind just being there.  The man looked at her quizzically and asked: “How is the search?”“What search?”“Theodora’s.” Taken aback, she replied,” I didn’t know you knew.”“Of course I knew, Theodora has become your aim these days, your reason to get up in the morning, your search for her has become the fuel of your life. Somehow, you would like to become her. Well, you might, if only you have what it takes.” “What does it take?” “Patience, discipline, surrender.”“Surrender to what?”“You should ask to whom.”“To whom?”“You shall see, if only you daré to go on.”“Where is Theodora?”“You can’t see her; she is gone, you see.”“Gone?”“I mean, she is dead.”“Theodora dead?”“Well, people die, you know.”“Was she killed by someone?”“No, not really. She died for love, and her heart gave way.”“And the triskelion? Was it hers?”“Yes, it was hers. She wanted it put on display so someone would buy it one day.”“Why sell it, why not give it away?”“She said only the one willing to pay for it should have it. Anyway, she paid the highest price.”“Was she your lover?” The question came out of her mouth before she could restrain it. The man laughed, so good-naturedly, it was almost menacing. “Oh, no. Theodora was not my lover; she was my friend, one of the few women friends I had in my life. Friends who do not engage in any sexual activity, just enjoy each other’ s company and keep their desires, should they exist, to themselves.”“So?”“Theodore was my elder brother´s slave.”“Slave?”“Yes, out of her own free will.”“Then why did she die from love?”“She died when her master left her”“Why did he leave her?”“He left her because his life was at that time somewhere else. He was and still is, a very busy man. And, as busy men go, he had little time to give her, she had to accept what he wanted to give her and only her devotion was needed, he was only to his business, but she Gaziosmanpaşa escort bayan was still needed to provide submission to his desires. Pity she failed to see it that way.”  The air seemed heavy all of a sudden, and she found she could not breathe easily. Theodora and her fate loomed around her. The triskelion warmed and buried itself into her skin. She felt branded somehow, by something she could not understand. Not yet.  If the man had noticed her discomfort, he gave no sign, but she felt he had and enjoyed it somewhat. So, silently, she headed for the door. The man caught her arm and whispered.   “Unless you want to become Theodore.”“No, I just…”“Come on, you were after her from the beginning.”“No, I was curious.”“Curiosity that drove you everywhere, you got the triskelion, you used to see if I was here so you could ask, you asked your lover, you were aching for it, always probing.”“But I…”“You have to find an answer …Theodora is gone, but her master is not. He would love to train you. You have it in you, you know it. When you feel ready, come back.”  She broke free from his grip and ran to the door. Whatever danger she could find in the streets at that hour seemed little compared to the ominous atmosphere of the room. The man ‘s cynical laughter followed her for blocks on end and rang in her ears all day.  Time passed somehow, time always does, even when we are caught in a turmoil, time passes, hurries us to our ends. This is how she felt the following morning and many mornings after. One of these mornings, on her way to the office, she saw the antique shop attendant supervising some men carrying crates from his shop to a lorry. She said hello and the man said,” I am moving out” by way of greeting.  She wanted to ask him where he was going and why but a strange feeling of acceptance, a patience born from many hours of frustration prevented her from doing so. She felt she had no right to ask him anything. He was giving no reasons anyway. Still, she felt curious.  She was the one looking and yet, she felt exposed to his gaze, exposed to the world somehow. His eyes roamed her body and she could not help trembling, fear and lust running through her veins.“I am going, but the next-door neighbour can tell you where I will be unless you want to know now.”“I will ask your neighbour when…when I…”“You will ask when you are ready.”The man smiled and she blushed, wishing she did not, wishing she had never come here, wishing she did not fancy this massive person with such big hands and cruel mouth… She was already near the door when his hand grabbed her arm. She felt powerless and found she liked the feeling. His hands opened her jacket, unbuttoned her blouse and stared at her breasts, rolling his thumbs on her nipples. When she moaned, he said..”See, you like it. Imagine the hands of your master taking their time all over your body, giving you this prize after flogging you.”“Flogging me?”“Yes, softly at first, to get you aroused and then harder, to carry you to a place where you only surrender till there is nothing of you that will have not given him.” The man’s hands forced her mouth open. He ordered her to suck his fingers, and she did greedily. Once wet, his fingers travelled down and forced her open. She surrendered completely to the hands that turned her over and explored her thoroughly, leaving her open and exposed to their mutual desire.“You must accept it, soon you will be broken into it and you will enjoy it. In the meantime, you must accept I will be the one enjoying it, while you struggle to accommodate me.”  She came violently, unable to hold her orgasm any longer. The man continued pumping into her, whispering in her ears words she had never been told before. She felt degraded and also free in a strange way. When the man came at last, he collapsed on top of her and bit her shoulder, drawing blood. She cried out and this seemed to please him even more intensely. She tried to break free, but he held her tightly.“I must have you completely; we are not done yet.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Kategoriler:

Genel

Yorum Ekle

E-Mail Adresiniz Yayınlanmayacak. Zorunlu Alanlar *

*