09-14-2018, 03:52 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-14-2018, 05:19 PM by Marcus DuBois.)
A slow fire burned in his chest, flames licking around his heart, her lips and tongue soft and inviting. She melted against him, seeping, molding herself to him, her hands on his chest and neck a song that called to him. The fire tried to roar but he controlled it, controlled himself.
It was Marcus' greatest secret. No one would ever guess. He knew what he was, knew the things he had done. Others might toss around terms like sociopath or psychopath. No conscience. No empathy.
He was none of those things. Empathy was what he was, at his core. It was the key to understanding people, to pushing and pulling them. It was his savior, to become another person, to imagine what they might do- might do to him!
When Marcus played a role, empathy let him become what people needed.
When Malik hunted, empathy let him mete out the most perfectly sublime of punishments.
And when Marcus was a lover, empathy let him feel her from the inside out. Let him be just what she needed.
His mind flowed naturally, partitioning off a portion of itself, absorbing everything he knew of her- her childhood, her family, pictures of her on social media, with friends in school or traveling, papers she'd authored, girly posts she made- all that he'd read and had experienced with her shaping a part of him, the contours of who she was.
And then he entered that space. He became her.
Ahhhh...he gasped. He had never...not once had he ever..
She was light. Pure. Innocence in the flesh.
And Marcus was in awe at this creature before him. The control slipped from his fingers, the fires blazing. He could already see her previous lovers, the few- one or two maybe- Fumbling. Unknowing. Lost. The meh that were her few times.
No one had worshiped this goddess properly. And Marcus wanted her to experience the divine.
Staring into her eyes, seeing the excitement and slight surprised fear- fear at the boldness of her invitation, he knew- he smiled at her, reached out a hand and gently touched her cheek. "Yes," he whispered.
He took her hand and led her into the living room. The lights were off but there was enough. He moved behind her, letting go of her hand, one arm coming around her waist, another across her chest, gently pulling her against him, her body warm and firm, his hand slightly tipping her head, exposing her neck glowing in the ambient light. He nuzzled her, then, so soft, the slight scent of her filling his nostrils, stoking those flames, whispers of lips tickling against her skin, waiting, waiting, waiting for sigh, the melt, the turn that would come, when she would turn in his arms and take his head in her hands and pull him down to kiss her with fire.
And then it would begin.
It was Marcus' greatest secret. No one would ever guess. He knew what he was, knew the things he had done. Others might toss around terms like sociopath or psychopath. No conscience. No empathy.
He was none of those things. Empathy was what he was, at his core. It was the key to understanding people, to pushing and pulling them. It was his savior, to become another person, to imagine what they might do- might do to him!
When Marcus played a role, empathy let him become what people needed.
When Malik hunted, empathy let him mete out the most perfectly sublime of punishments.
And when Marcus was a lover, empathy let him feel her from the inside out. Let him be just what she needed.
His mind flowed naturally, partitioning off a portion of itself, absorbing everything he knew of her- her childhood, her family, pictures of her on social media, with friends in school or traveling, papers she'd authored, girly posts she made- all that he'd read and had experienced with her shaping a part of him, the contours of who she was.
And then he entered that space. He became her.
Ahhhh...he gasped. He had never...not once had he ever..
She was light. Pure. Innocence in the flesh.
And Marcus was in awe at this creature before him. The control slipped from his fingers, the fires blazing. He could already see her previous lovers, the few- one or two maybe- Fumbling. Unknowing. Lost. The meh that were her few times.
No one had worshiped this goddess properly. And Marcus wanted her to experience the divine.
Staring into her eyes, seeing the excitement and slight surprised fear- fear at the boldness of her invitation, he knew- he smiled at her, reached out a hand and gently touched her cheek. "Yes," he whispered.
He took her hand and led her into the living room. The lights were off but there was enough. He moved behind her, letting go of her hand, one arm coming around her waist, another across her chest, gently pulling her against him, her body warm and firm, his hand slightly tipping her head, exposing her neck glowing in the ambient light. He nuzzled her, then, so soft, the slight scent of her filling his nostrils, stoking those flames, whispers of lips tickling against her skin, waiting, waiting, waiting for sigh, the melt, the turn that would come, when she would turn in his arms and take his head in her hands and pull him down to kiss her with fire.
And then it would begin.