Crave You: A Novel

Chapter 3

                                                                                         Kayla

I got a private message. I tap on the inbox icon and read,

Dominantmaster: 33, dom, if interested in b**m, reply.

Those words blink at me. It's not because I was surprised. It's because I was running my memory, when was it actually that I told Nathan I wanted to try b**m. I only remember Nathan mooting, "Can we stick to vanilla? I don't think it's a good idea."

"Nathan, it would be something different. Like you're trying a new drink." 

"Drinks are different. Kinks are different."

"We can try," I said, soothing him.

"No, Kayla."

"Alright. Fine. But, tell me this. Aren't you a little bit curious how b**m is?"

"Uh, no. I'm not." He sounded irritated. He looked at me as if he made his point very clear.

I put away his expression. I didn't let his annoyance get to me.

"Why? Are you afraid you won't live up to it?"

"No. It's just, I find b**m not quite arousing. It's too much of giving someone than receiving it."

"I don't agree. You feel the tension and a different kind of pleasure. If this is about who'd be sub or dom, I can take charge."

"I love looking at you on top of me, honey. But, what I'm trying to say is, it's not my kind of scene, okay? It's like off-putting."

"Nathan Lee. Are you saying you've tried b**m before?" I turned to face him. I propped my elbow. Rest my head in my hand. I accidentally pushed one pillow off the edge on my side. While I picked up, I controlled myself to look at him, wide-eyed. I showed him a smile I couldn't hide. It would be interesting to know if Nathan was in the scene before we met. That would've been something to listen to about my husband's adventurous side. 

But, he didn't look at me. He stared straight at the ceiling. He was thinking something deeply as he frowned. Until he shook his head. Then he said, "No." Plainly.

"Then how do you know it's off-putting ?" I asked him curiously. I didn't want to sound like I was pressing him.

"God, you wouldn't understand." He said bored before turning his back at me.

"Help me understand then, Nathan. I'm not judging you. I'm simply trying to know what's holding you back.

I thought suggesting the idea might help us enliven what we used to have. I miss you, Nathan. We don't see each other often." I said, disheartened, searching for his comfort. I stroked his stiff back over his green t-shirt. I tried easing him into opening up with me. 

When a few seconds ticked by, he didn't say anything. The air conditioner hummed silently. Until he spoke, "I have a flight to catch. Goodnight." That night, that was the end of our conversation on the topic. Nathan didn't move. But on his side, I could feel his eyes were still open.

I shrugged. What else I could've done. I remember how my breath felt. I made up my mind that I can't do anything about this. I wondered if it's possible to wish. If Nathan wasn't uptight, he might have helped me travel his mind and learn what held him back. 

Nothing in that hour I knew I would get from him. I leaned on him, left a kiss on his forehead. Then I sat and flipped through the n******e Before You, I pretended I hadn't finished. 

Intimacy is primal. Intrinsic. A shared choice. A part of a committed relationship that was missing in mine. 

Our s*x life wasn't that bad. Neither was great. Ours made me feel like I was the one desperately searching for a promised diamond pendant inside a strong fragrant bath bomb. 

When I started this relationship, I thought we would be unlike others. We wouldn't fall into mundane habits no matter how much life squeezes our patience. 

I don't know when it happened. Where exactly did we stand apart? Our patience turned into jobs. I'm trying to balance my work-life. I've been busy lately as much as Nathan. We've roles to play where people rely on us. But at home, Nathan isn't present to fulfill his role. 

When I look around me, our duplex home, quaint and calm, that I have the feeling of running my hands over the glass windows, think how I can decorate two bedrooms, a shared bathroom where I cry silently when I have a bad day, a small study space to sneak myself with snacks and Netflix, an island kitchen where I can bake and upload my pretty creations on i********:. Things that we can call a place for us to stay, all of these we've — once, it meant a life to work for. A cozy home with Nathan, that I could feel safe in. 

As we're working and paying in installments, I feel nothing now. I have a life that I'm unable to live. The cost of the lifestyle we inherited is the price of the burden we're carrying too.

Nathan is trying hard for promotion. If he gets the senior manager position, we may clear our student loans soon. I'm making decent numbers too but I'm also contributing to most of our daily expenses. Sometimes, you don't get enough time to sit and think you can enjoy a Mimosa on the couch. 

When I return home, I look forward to snuggling up with Nathan. Devour my feelings in him that I miss being with him. 

But, during the six years of our marriage, something has changed in him. Nathan has shown little interest in me. If I kiss him and straddle, he stops my hand from going further down. If I move and stand behind him in the shower, hug him, caressing his chest, his flat abs, he stops me and fumbles for his towel, and says bluntly, "Kayla, you know I don't like such surprises." 

I question when was the time Nathan used to hug me from behind. I miss his touch. Sometimes, I forget, if I miss him too.

We used to go out, stroll at midnight, cuddle while watching horror shows, kiss in the mornings while he used to slip his way under my top. It used to be good until we became invested in other responsibilities. His touch disappeared in the mug handles and keyboard. His kisses became chaste. His cuddles for me were now hugs for cushions and pillows. Day by day, we woke up together. Greeting less and slipping in our decided roles. But I didn't forget him. That's the difference.

Sometimes I thought, what could be the reason. Is Nathan avoiding me because we've become acquainted with each other? We've been together for so long. Sometimes, he makes me believe like I'm a grown weed in a neglected overgrown garden.

I thought suggesting something new might invoke some sense in our relationship. I even took advice from the Cosmopolitan blog. I assumed we might feel that same sensation the moment we lock our eyes. We might try to remember why we want to be with each other. I wanted to practically convince him how much it would mean for our relationship to try something we could live for. But, he never saw it that way. It's hard bringing him inside the same room. 

He's proving why we can't have excitement. He's making me believe what type of couple we've become. The more I see the distance in his eyes, the more I feel I'm walking away. Vanish in the thick morning fog. 

We've become so conversant that I've to find my desire somewhere else. If Nathan isn't up for it, this user has intrigued my attention. If this isn't a freaking joke, then in what better way I can simply explain my situation?

I'm tempted to explore my inhibition again. But, on so many levels, this is wrong. Though no one is here. No one can see what I'm doing. Each time I read these words, I feel I'm cheating on Nathan. It shouldn't be me. That's not how this is supposed to be. I don't know if I should go ahead while the water is still boiling. 

I know this page isn't judging me. I can't see Nathan's reflection on my screen. Then, why can't I text back when I want it so bad?

I remember sharing it with Kelly during late lunchtime at Ginger's restaurant after I told them about Nathan's opinion toward b**m.

They said, fiddling with the diet Coke can with their long sparkly manicured nails, "Hell to him. If my one-night-stand denied that, I would've flogged her as her punishment."

"Kelly, you just described one of b**m. And that's not how it works."

"I know. Technically, she's a brat. So, I've her consent. As for you, I'm being practical. If you can't convince him, then show him a teaser."

"How astute."

"You're telling me. I've shown my darlings some good showtime, just by wearing that tight black latex and --"

"La la la la! Kelly, I didn't ask you to describe your experience!" I covered my ears before they could continue their weekend rendezvous escapades.

"That was a preview boss. You haven't heard the real scene. Also, grow up. You're with me." They said, before throwing a napkin at me.

"Don't make me more jealous," I said, opening one eye. I felt extraordinarily fascinated how Kelly didn't have to worry like me.

They lose wigs at clubs. Gets drunk like it's 2012. Make out with people hungrily when their eyes burn bright. I've seen many times how Kelly didn't have to go back home empty. That ended up with me going home, back to Nathan. Only to change in my blue pajamas and slip myself in the cold sheets. The smell of detergent felt nicer to me than Nathan could make me. 

"Fine. Fine. But, as good luck, let me give you a candle to pour some sense into him." They said demonstrating in invisible air. 

I laughed with them. They knew after I sipped Moscow mule, I felt a bit lighter but still, I couldn't be myself. 

Nathan still means to me so much. I don't want to lose what I've with him. I want him to work this relationship with me. Until Nathan comes home and talks to me. Confess where we are. 

I drift from my unconscious when I see many texts dropping and pinging the other me. I muster some courage and begin typing. But, I stop halfway.

I shouldn't be doing this. I know I shouldn't give in. I should be taking out my white blouse and palazzo trousers from the closet. Throw my head in the presentation. Prepare a speech. I'm equally nervous about this meeting but I can't help searching for a distraction when chaos is tightening its noose around my neck. 

The temperature is soaring. My chest constricts in doubt. My fingers itch, contemplating. I can't control the suffering inside me. I need to take it out. Throw it away. Release me from the damage it is causing me emotionally. That's it, Kayla. You can have a small virtual fun. 

Besides, I'm not Kayla on this site. I'm midnightlady29. Single and very much into submission.

midnightlady29: What can I do for you, sir?

My thumb shivers. I hesitantly tap the arrow. It was either out of excitement or guilt not yet formed in me.

I get a text again,

Dominantmaster: Kneel now and stick it out for me.

I was shaking. My feet felt cold. I was chewing my nails, half-naked, in bed.

I look at my chest bringing out the lacey bra and then at my thong as I spread my thighs, my knees sink in the mattress.

The feeling of being alive was reverberating in my ears. I was the one controlling the moment. I don't want to veto that control. I want to feel myself. I want to escape Nathan for a few minutes. I type,

midnightlady29: Yes, sir.

My blood rushed, drubbing my eardrums. I get up from the bed and examine my curves in the mirror. I want to snap some angles that define me but conceal me.

I take the phone and place it vertically on the vanity. I check whether my full body appears on the screen. I turn around, kneel, my knees digging in the soft sheets, I show my back to the camera. I glance over my shoulder and see my behind pushed up with the thong sitting low in the crevice. This heats my blush and my center aches with torrent.

I imagine those hands traveling my stomach and reaching up, grab my breasts. Those strong hands slip underneath my bra. The flimsy material hikes up exposing the curves of my breast line. Those strong hands knead them, squeeze my soft flesh in fervor. Then, the long fingers move to my hardened n*****s. The tips tug my sensitive points sharply, careful but delectably rub them, giving care that throb for more.

Those hands pull me against his chest. His rough palms stay on my cleavage. He kisses my neck eagerly. Then sucks my skin above the collarbone and breathlessly grunts my name, "Kayla". That voice I hear over and over in my head.

Aroused, I click a picture of my soft voluptuous piece, with that thin string riding up.

Lying down with my hips up and my heart pounding fast, I quickly sent the picture to him. Then after some seconds, I get his reply,

Dominantmaster: Good girl. Dominantmaster: Here's your reward.

Dominantmaster: I spank you so hard, I see my handprint on you.

midnightlady29: And then?

I wait anxiously for his next message. 

Dominantmaster: And then, I rub you. I make you wet slowly. I increase my pace.

Dominantmaster: Beg me to stop.

He made me imagine Scott spanking me.

I imagine lying on his lap. His palm spanks me, bites my skin. Red as the moon in the parlous night. 

The blood rushes my skin, infusing me with fever. Scott takes a mouthful and soothes his tongue over the imprinted mark. The thought excites me as my finger trails over my plum.

midnightlady29: Sir, it feels so good.

I heave slightly. My breath picks up heavily.

Dominantmaster: You didn't beg me?

Dominantmaster: Now here's your punishment.

Dominantmaster: Pull your string aside.

Dominantmaster: Show me everything.

His words thrum inside me as I close my eyes and see Scott over me. His glorious face inches close. He wrinkles his nose lovingly against mine. His lips brush. Not kissing. Not fully touching it. Just a light tease that makes me arch toward him.

I open my eyes. And pull my thong to one side. The light breeze cools my warm core. It throbs at the sensation, visible for him to admire. I put the timer on and pull it aside again. Every second makes my center soak in lust. I imagine Scott near my entrance. He admires the pink flesh, blows it, cooling me. The sensation pricks. I grab the sheets feeling his lips on my throbbing floret.

He licks my outer skin. I gasp, almost calling out his name. He presses his tongue flat in the middle, as he licks me, savoring the pleasure for both of us, from bottom to top. I moan, arching my back as I imagine his nails slightly graze my mounds. 

I open my eyes again. I take the phone and look at the picture. It seems as if I was living in it.

I sent him the image. Then seconds later, his text chimes in,

Dominantmaster: I suck those plump lips. I thrust inside you till it disappears between your rear.

Oh god, this was heaven even if it's forbidden. I was blind to retreat.

I text before I gasp. The rush overtakes me.

midnighlady29: Oh, sir, yes!

I slip the bra down. My n*****s, pointed ahead, hang in the air as I imagine I'm hovering over Scott's luscious mouth.

In the daze, I sit up. I hold my soft skin in one hand as if I was offering him. I slide my fingers past the band. I rub my core, slipping one finger in. When the timer announced the shutter, I sent him right away. Then wait for the text which didn't take much time.

Dominantmaster: Yes. That's so hot. I'm rubbing myself now. Look how hard I'm.

He doesn't wait. He sends me an image of his rod. Thick and streaked. Tortured. Like it would burst the second I touch. I was too into it until I chose my words carefully.

midnightlady29: Sir, that looks like it needs some love.

Dominantmaster: It would look lovely between your valleys. This is what it needs. Knead those together. Show me.

I sprung in action like I was high. In a fuel that made no sense, it elicited an excitement that caused me to lose myself.

I fondle my breasts together a bit high, giving a shape that would be irresistible for him. I pose in front of the camera and wait for the sound. I hold it like I'm looking into his eyes. Staring into his ocean iris, inviting him to dip in my hot water. When the shutter closes, I crop my face and apply some filters to my image.

As soon as I send him, several seconds go by, until his reply pings me,

Dominantmaster: Get on your knees and rub those panties back and forth. Till I tell you to stop.

I was consumed by fire. I don't know how intense it was going to burn me up. My skin was pink. My center wanted me to caress the soft petals.

Then, I feel his hands slither around my waist. His breath on my ear like feathers tingles my skin. His touch riles me inside, warming and gushing. He kisses my neck. I lace his fingers with mine. Then, his fingers slowly travel down, past my navel, and down, disappearing into the thin material.

I gasp holding myself, feeling the undulating pressure heightening my senses. His finger rests on me. Rubbing them gently as if I'm fragile. I hold onto his bicep. And my other hand rests on his where he's playing me in rapture. Then he braces to show his best when the night draws a spotlight on us.

I gasp loudly. His finger slides inside me. I moan in ecstasy. I feel my thighs shaking, trembling in a sensation I haven't felt for so long. As if it isn't enough, his second finger dips in. I close my mouth. I don't want to sound loud for the whole house to echo my pleasure. This is too much to hide in a desire I've been aching to feel before.

His fingers stay inside, caressing the wall as if he is admiring the paint, running on them, stroking lovingly as if it's too precious to lose.

He travels furthermore, trying to catch me as I slip away from his grasp. I don't let him draw me in his arms. I run further down paths unexplored, unseen, and venture deep I hadn't seen in my life.

I cry, letting myself fall in the bed. My face was buried in the sheets, screaming for release.

He envelopes me with his flushed body. His chest pressed against my back, I can feel him tickling his stubble on my shoulder. His hand once again traces inside me. Two fingers dig inside. Chasing me. Resuming our hide and seek that should've ended soon. 

My phone beeps. I'm too dizzy to look at this user's text. I turn away as I feel him adjust behind me. His hips push against mine. His inch hovers between my creek. He plays me. Teases me, waiting for me to lose my mind for him. His hands strum my strings, lost in the tunes I wasn't familiar with. It was all too strange for me to recognize the song as we chased around, that all too suddenly, I end up stuck in a tunnel. Dark. 

The faint light far ahead guides me but beckons me to reach for it. I was on my own to discover my way out. 

I place my hands on the rocky wall. I push myself in that direction. All I know is, I've to keep going.

The more I think, the more I feel anxious. My heart beats in a sensation that covers the tune. Now deaf to my ears. I meander around, struggling to reach out. Then, suddenly, he's behind me again.

He pulls me by my waist.

I feel his hands touching me down. It doesn't take much time for me to gasp in his arms. Groaning, echoing, as the tunnel closes in.

I revel in his touch. More and more. But, I can't take any more. I wail as I give into the darkness. I dip into him as bright light consumes us. Clutching the sheets I shoot up. I squirm in the puddle, fall into the mess. 

I feel his arms slip from me. That agonizing touch leaves me. And then, I feel cold. 

I catch my breath. I let my hand rest off my side of the bed.

That was quite a ride. Especially my imagination. Doing it with Scott. This was a fantasy I don't know if I would repeat. For now, I was relieved. I feel like treating myself to cotton candy ice cream. 

My phone pings me to my senses. I reach and open the text,

Dominantmaster: Show me.

Dominantmaster: Where are you?

Dominantmaster: Hey, answer me. Dominantmaster: Answer me.

I close the page. I tap the screen off and push my damp self to shower.

As I stand under the water, wash my glow from my face, I think I should be feeling happy. Yet, I don't smile. I can't.

I can't deny that the fantasy helped me lose. Maybe, this is the stage where I feel guilty. This is weird how in a matter of minutes, something you wanted desperately, changes to annoying thoughts of why I had to do it. From climbing high to thrashing down. It's like committing a crime in the eyes of no one. 

I should think of something else. This will pass. I'm sure I'll be fine. 

Oh, I should've thanked that user. I could've but, it would be all too much. This was a one-time thing without Nathan.

I know. I need to remind myself that this was a kind of sweet vacation. It was my getaway. One of my secrets to keep. That no one should know or has to. 

I can't tell Nathan what I did. Do I think I can? God, no. I know what he would think of me. It would escalate our relationship to cause more accidents than it has toppled, with us hanging loose in the car upside down already.

I shake my head as the hot water soaks me. I support my hand on the wall. I can't believe I thought about Scott while I m*********d. He's had too much impact on me. He reminds me of the absence I see in Nathan. Scott was a way to flush out my angst. I'm not sure if I'm ready to make up my mind for my selfish reasons.

What I know is, when you're in reverie, you only think about how you're going to quench your thirst. The inhibition takes you to a point where you can't return. And for me, that was the point where I couldn't return.

When pleasure wallows you in glee, you can only think of soaking in its warm golden blanket, forgetting what you're, what you need, and what you want. Underneath, you lose yourself, which suppresses the mossy pond. When you decide to dive in deep, you forget the world you live in. I let myself drown in the taste of its salt. The taste I can't easily forget.

Though, I still love my husband. I can't stop loving him, no matter what. If this means being with him, I'd have to douse my impulse. If I've to imagine Scott while doing it.

I close my eyes as I take the vow under the ripple beating over me.

I've to get ready for the meeting. It's noon as it is. And there's more to me. I've to get back to my life now. I've to go. I've to forget him. I hope Scott doesn't stay with me for the rest of the day. I'm glad that he's just someone I'll never see again. Besides, I'm not going back to Seus Doces. I would be too busy, that by the end of the day, I wouldn't remember his name.