The Story of a Man, A Woman, and the Corpses of 1000 Evil Students

I had a small television in my ‘living room’. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as Frank’s big screen (he claimed he needed it for his video gaming) but I had mine turned on to the news while I messed around with shit on my laptop until Gerard came into the room. He sat down in the other armchair.

“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight. If you want, I can totally hop back up to Frank’s apartment and sleep with him. It wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve shared a bed,” he laughed. I also laughed-nervously.

“It’s no problem. I was just realizing that I don’t have a couch for you to sleep on, so it looks like we’ll be sharing a bed, too,” I said quietly, pretending to be engrossed in something online to not make a huge deal out of the sleeping situation. After I said that, the silence was electric.

The TV mumbled softly in the background, but the static in the air was far more potent than any static coming off its screen.

“I’m fine with that if you’re fine with that,” Gerard said, swiping through something on his phone. It seemed we both had the same distraction sequence.

“Okay cool.” I shut my laptop. “I’m fucking exhausted. My second wind from trying to make you feel like the thirty year old loser you are has worn off and I’m ready to sleep for twelve or more hours.”

I stood up, and so did he. He followed me into my bedroom. I pointed at the side closest to the door. “That’s your side. I can’t just switch sides to accommodate everyone, you know. Because I’m such shit with hospitality,” I smiled. Gerard smirked wearily back at me.

“Sounds good.” We both kind of stood on our respective sides of the bed before sliding under the covers. After a few minutes, I pulled the cord on the light on my nightstand, extinguishing the room into darkness. There was some moonlight filtering in from the cracks between my blinds, giving an eery yet serene glow to my room.

I rolled over onto my right side, my back to Gerard. I had been tired but now...now my heart was drumming in my chest and blood was flowing everywhere . I couldn’t calm down. I had taken my meds while he was in the shower so he wouldn’t see exactly how crazy I was. I thought he had fallen asleep so I grabbed my phone from my nightstand to check the time.

“Can’t sleep either?” He said softly. I locked my phone, putting it back down after I got over the shock from hearing him.

“Not really. It’s...hard.”

“You’re telling me.”

We both rolled over onto our backs, staring at the now dark nighttime sky that normally illuminated my room.

“What are you thinking about?” Gerard asked.

“You,” I admitted, feeling brave.

“That’s funny. Because I’m thinking about you.”

“What about me?”

“That I want to kiss you.”

I thought my chest was going to explode from the lack of oxygen in my lungs. My voice was shaky when I finally spoke.

“Well, why don’t you?”

“Because this is the first time we’ve properly seen each other in half a year and I don’t want you to think I look at you as a hook up,” he whispered into the night air.

“Fair enough,” I mused. I could see my chest beating from how hard my heart was working right now.

“Because I look at you as somebody that I care a lot about. And I don’t want you to think anything else,” he said. “And I don’t want anybody else.”

I rolled over onto my left side, and he did the same. We were so close that I could feel his sweet breath on my eyelashes, but we were so far away that it felt like nothing would ever be able to close whatever gap, emotional or physical, we had between us.

“I don’t want anybody else, either, Gerard,” I admitted. Both of our breathing was rapid.

“Good,” he said. I thought he was about to roll back over onto his back, but instead he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him, closing the physical gap. He brushed his lips against mine softly and I let out a moan despite my best intentions. “Good.”

He hitched my leg up over his side, finally giving me a real kiss. I flashed back to when we first kissed and how incredible that was, but it didn’t hold a torch to this moment. He peeled my shirt off of me, and I did the same to him, running my hands over his soft chest. We deepened the kiss before he flipped me onto my back, my legs still wrapped around him. I held up a finger and he pulled back. I strained to to reach my nightstand where I fished around for a condom in the drawer, holding it out to him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He breathed into my neck as he shrugged out of his sweatpants.

“Gerard, I’ve wanted to do this ever since I met you. So yes. I’m sure.” I kissed him to further solidify my answer as he rolled the condom on.

“If you say so.”

We became like one entity, moving at the same speed, becoming entangled in our own passions. His dark has was matted down to his forehead with sweat, as was my own, and I kept wiping beads from his brow. I did my best to stay somewhat quiet as it was almost four in
the morning; I couldn’t be waking up the neighbors with my screams of long awaited pleasure.

Instead, I whispered them into his ear.

I had had plenty of hookups throughout college, most of them-if not all of them-meaningless and simply two lonely, somewhat drunk people getting bored and deciding there was nothing better to do. My meds had somewhat killed my sex drive, but where Gerard was concerned, I was, for lack of a better term, dripping with want. This was love: not just fucking. I decided to give him a break and we flipped over. I pushed him down onto his back, a satisfied, blissed out smile on his lips as I climbed on top, resituating myself.

“Oh, I guess I did get to ride you after all,” I murmured, throwing my head back as I took the feeling in. Our hips ground together; he was helping me keep rhythm with his slender hands on my waist.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” I opened one of my eyes to look down at him mischievously. If anybody was beautiful here, it was him. His heart shaped face was flushed pink with warmth, eyes alternating between closed in bliss, half opened with awe, or wide enough to take in the view. His hair was splayed in a halo around his head on my pillow and his mouth was either in an O shape or pressed together in a sly smile. He had barely a trace of chest hair save a happy trail down from his belly button, and the perfect amount of fat on him to make him comfortable to lie against and strong enough to hold me down when I asked him to.

“I know that you’re beautiful,” I said. I had a permanent smile plastered to myself that made me feel quite unsexy, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Getting a year’s worth of sexual tension out in one night was going to be tough, but somebody had to do it. “I have handcuffs in the chest by my closet...if you’re into that,” I said quickly when he didn’t reply immediately.

“Oh god, Charlotte,” he moaned, drawing out his vowels with his Jersey accent, sounding like ‘gaaaaawd’ instead. “It would be my honor to handcuff you.”

My stomach lurched in the best way possible when he said that, becoming oh so warm under my belly button. I leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the lips before untangling myself from him, slipping off the bed to root through my box of ‘adult’ business.

“Any blindfolds?” He called softly from my bed. I snorted.

“Am I that ugly?”

“You vixen, you know that’s not what I meant.” I grabbed the black nylon hand restraints and a red blindfold, dangling them in the air above his head.

“These good enough?” He sat up, slipping the blindfold over my eyes quickly.

“Oooh, these are more than good enough,” he purred quietly into my ear. I shivered from the goosebumps popping up along my skin. I felt him moving me around until I was once again with my back against my bed, the sheets sticking to my sweaty back. Gerard gently wrapped my hands in front of me, pulling me back up to my knees on the bed. Then, I didn’t feel him anymore.

“God, what are you doing?” I whined, wanting to feel his touch on me immediately.

“That’s the whole point of the blindfold, Charlie.” He was behind me now, near my headboard. Slowly, he traced a finger up the length of my spine. The lack of contact was making every single one of my senses scream. This was torture. I instinctively tried to reach back, but the velcro around my wrist restraints was not going to budge. “Be patient.”

Abandon all hope, the sirens in my head blared. “I love it when you tell me what to do.”

“I had the feeling you did, ever since the day I first stuffed that cigarette between those red lips of yours,” he was now using both his hands to trace the contours on my back, slowly working his way up to my neck. “How do you feel about biting?”

“As much and as hard as you can,” I panted, thinking back to that first day with him, driving me that much more crazy.

“Good, because I like to draw blood,” were the last words I heard before my vision exploded into euphoric light. He pressed himself up behind me, wrapping one of his hands around my chest and using the other to dip my head to one side. At first all I felt were his soft lips leaving me a trail of kisses, but those soon gave way to his teeth. We fell forward and he bit harder, deeper, until I was in danger of screaming, which I think he sensed.

So he inched his hand up from my neck to wrap around my mouth, his other one sneaking in between my thighs when I was least expecting it. I tried to tell him, I tried to let him know I was about to go over the edge and explode into a tangled mess of sex. I think he knew, and I think he liked keeping me locked in his arms while I squirmed, moaning into his hand. I felt something warm dripping from my neck which made my head spin; it wasn’t my fault I had a blood kink. He tipped my head back so he could look into my eyes. His were a mixture of lust and amusement, and he just nodded at me.

It was the best orgasm of my life. I couldn’t tell how long it lasted, and I honestly didn’t care because I was out of my mind. He let me drop softly back down onto my pillows, my chest heaving and my heart pounding. I felt like I was sinking into my mattress. I was so heavy and exhausted. He sat on my hips, looking down at me with a grin. I just gave him a thumbs up before panting, “let’s keep going.”

I think we were both pretty worn down after that escapade. Our foreheads were pressed up against each other’s as we kept the rhythm going. He had tossed my wrist restraints aside and I was instead running my hands through his damp hair, trying to keep it off his forehead. He gave me a quick whispered warning before he leaned back, letting his bliss overtake him. He collapsed down onto my chest abruptly, straining his neck to look at me.

“Oh.” Gerard struggled to breathe. “My god.”

I wriggled my arms out from under him to wipe my hair out of my eyes. “Seconded.”

“Holy fuck.”

He got up to toss the condom, then pulled me into the shower with him because, in his own words, “we need to wash the sin off ourselves.”

Most of what we did was make out and kiss each others necks and nip earlobes and drown ourselves in my vanilla body wash. We had both weak knees, so we ended up sitting in the bottom of the shower while the hot water poured over us. He reached out to trace the indentations of his teeth on my shoulder/neck.

“Wow. I really got you there. You’re going to need a hell of a good makeup brand to cover that up,” he said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh god don’t be, that was the best part. I like my sex how I like my coffee. Hot and covered in blood,” I looked up at him from between my bangs that were hanging in front of my eyes. He giggled.

“Weird, we have the same taste in coffee.”

We decided after a few more minutes that we weren’t going to keep wasting water just for making inappropriate bloody sex jokes. Soon enough, we were back in my bed, but it wasn’t awkward this time, and it wasn’t three in the morning. It was almost six. He was on his side, facing me, as he pulled me closer to him. I reached a hand over to run along his jawline slowly.

“You’re amazing,” I found myself saying in a daze as I gazed at his chiseled jaw, perfect cheekbones and small lopsided mouth. “You’re a work of art. We should be studying you in class instead.”

“Oh, hush. But,” he smiled, “flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Especially my bed,” I mused.

“I love...how comfy this bed is too.” I think he caught himself. I would have freaked out, but I was too tired to care.

“It’s making me sleepy.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the bed that’s making you sleepy.”

“Sorry, Gerard, you’re right. Your intense fucking you gave me is making me sleepy,” I said smartly.

“My fucking?” I shrugged at his question. Again, too tired to care.

I was drifting off to sleep finally, but I remembered the last thing he said echoing into my head, following me into my dreams.

It’s not love if it’s just fucking.

Notes