Coercions

The bus inched upwards on one of the old serpentines of Buda, the hilly landscape of Budapest. The late September still teased with warm days in memory of summer, but the evenings became more and more chilly and dusk approached earlier. Vicky drew the cardigan over her shoulders closely. The dark-blue, hand-knitted, tunic-length garment allowed a few glimpses of her tanned skin here and there through its crocheted, old-fashioned romantic patterns ... she was not sure if the shiver came from the cold of the proceeding evening. This tension taunted her from inside, she knew only too well. Perhaps she shouldn't come up. She had subdued misgivings; something was waiting for her, something vague, blurry, dark... something thrilling...

It was daylight still, but the peak hour was over. She could even have a seat as the bus was half empty. Vicky felt better seated this time, because of the two teenagers. They eyed her with unconcealed grins from the backdoor, puffing and popping their chewing gums loudly. That's why she sat down. She didn't like sitting on buses and trams, but this time she dressed for the kill. The turquoise summer dress followed her curves like a second skin and it was short, displaying her slim, naked legs. A palm-wide, dark-blue, satin girdle encircled her hourglass waist and emphasised the soft mounds of her breasts. She wanted a payback for the obscurity of the past few months, but especially for last Friday... She wanted to see in Gabor's eyes the deep, crimson-fire of yearning... and taking her revenge victoriously... but would she be able to? His voice was so uneasy, maybe even regretful over the phone... Maybe he would choose her after all?

Vicky swallowed hard, heart pulsating in her throat...

She buttoned up the cardigan to the neck, so covering up the deep, V-form décolletage of the dress. She was glad about her foresight, putting on a bra, she had hesitated at home for the sexiest effect, but this way she offered a lot less entertainment to the two boys at the backdoor. The fine garment felt like armour, a secure defence against randy glances. Of course, she didn't dress like this for an audience, yet the guys came in handy when it was time to test the results. She wanted simply steam-roller Gabor flat, to punish him... but she could only do it if able to invoke a strong craving in him. It was the only chance to keep the reins in her hands... At 158 centimetres Vicky wasn't too tall, but she was shapely and proportionate. She could pick any man at any time, but had fallen in love with Gabor... inexplicably and without any sane logic...

For eight months now they had been dating, but over the last four months she had sensed emotional changes; things didn't work like they had at the beginning. Something lurked behind the scenes, something enigmatic. So she had asked him a few times: "Do you have someone else, Gabor?" He always replied with a sort of light-minded openness: "Yes, I do... do you want to leave me?" And he had looked at her with such adoring eyes that she could not take it for a joke.

Vicky got frightened first: "Don't you love me anymore?" she asked, mustering all her pride against the spontaneous squeeze in her throat. "I do," he replied every time, "more than you can imagine." And he said it with such deep, warm and convincing tenderness that in Vicky's heart all doubts melted away.

Also their lovemaking became rather rhapsodic, therefor her suspicion never really ceased up until last Friday. Last Friday she was unable to suppress forthcoming tears, no matter of pride and shame. Yes, she would have to follow her womanly instincts; leave him, run away from him as far as she could... but then she heard his voice over the phone and every sane thought, every logical reasoning flew out the window and every single time Vicky began to sink deeper and deeper in the labyrinth of her emotions. There was no escape from this. Whenever she felt him near, his breathing on her skin, it was enough for her nipples to shrink into rosebuds and fire flooded through her belly. Sometimes he touched her tenderly, like handling fine china ware, sometimes however did not restrain his macho yearnings and became wild, rough and unscrupulously demanding; it seemed he didn't care for Vicky, only for his own tyrannous satisfaction. She was used like a sex-toy, or like a slave-girl who was kept only to satisfy his lecherous need... Yes, he was rather rough sometimes, his velvet voice changed into rasping, short commands, interlaced with raving, instinctive energies.

It was almost savage and a lot more primitive to what Vicky could ever imagine as passionate lovemaking. At the same time she was swept away by the intense sensation that she was desirable with such irrepressible urge, overwhelming craving and that she was able to unleash such uncontrollable desire from Gabor.

After these rugged love makings Gabor watched her, studying her face. Vicky didn't know what he was searching for. She had been exhausted, sleepy. Gabor's attention had troubled her for she had been consumed physically, left without defences, without any emotional shield. Nevertheless, for some strange reason she had experienced immense gratification every single time and had been stunned by the force of it, reaching the peak more often than ever before. She was unable to comprehend the brutality of her own orgasms. Perhaps she wanted to avoid admitting to herself she was becoming more and more unprotected physically and therefor emotionally as well.

The carnal dependence felt humiliating. Gabor's fierce, lecherous and tyrannic ways as he freely unleashed untamed macho instincts, using her mercilessly, with almost livid ruthlessness could not be tolerated. Therefore it was even harder to face; probably it was the very reason for falling ever deeper in love with him. His erupting and rhapsodic temperament dug deep in her core and touched emotional chords whose existence was unknown to her. She only had to recall his scent, or voice during the day and uncontrollable chemistry started to swirl in her senses immediately and they didn't spare either her pride or dignity, squashing her female poise, forcing her to her knees... She would have done practically anything to return the same soul and body shaking fulfilment to him as what she was befalling a slave to...

... and then came his wretched self-reapproaching confession last Friday...

Vicky shivered again, perhaps from apprehension. She was determined to be strong... but what exactly was waiting for her...?

Chauvinist pig! Selfish, caring for only himself... typical man! ... she fumed from the irritating thoughts and had to push back angry, swelling tears... But she'll be strong today... and once and for all she'll put an end to this... this business... She would humiliate him...

She felt the teenagers burning glances on the back of her neck and it strengthened her resolve, giving her the much needed confidence. She looked good, sexy, her body curved just right at the right places. She would have the victory. With a defiant toss of her head she swayed her freshly washed, honey-blond, shoulder-length hair backwards, which reflected the amber glow of the setting sun. A quick glance in the compact mirror; the subtle makeup looked just perfect, dark emerald-green eyes sparkling... If only a bit of an impish twinkle would flicker in them rather than the well-known, helpless yearning. But she would play and pretend, if needed.

Of course, it is possible he only called for her today because the other girl kicked him out. If what he said last Friday was true the girl knew about Vicky all along and probably had had enough and showed the door to this double-faced pimp; this spoiled, puffed up, conceited, arrogant baboon!! She probably had more courage, or rather self-respect- but no way, Vicky was not ready to be a replacement sex-kitten.

She stood up with strong determination and pushed the stop button.

The sweet, characteristic autumn fragrances of the hills of Buda filled her nostrils as she stepped down from the bus at the familiar bus stop. Vicky was hesitant only for a moment, but then she started upwards on the short staircase that led to the gate of the twelve-unit building block. As if a group of light pixies were dancing heavy, festive dances in the pit of her stomach, she shivered. She pushed the doorbell under the nameplate. Gabor's voice didn't come from the intercom this time, but almost immediately she heard the buzz of the magnetic lock. She opened the iron-bar gate and walked upwards along the short footpath to the building. She heard the click of the bolt; the garden-gate locked itself behind her.

Vicky stopped thinking. Her feet worked on their own accord upwards to the first floor, while in her 27 years old veins chemistry mixed chaotic emotions with instincts, and the bizarre mixture tried to overpower common sense. Perhaps she was pale, or maybe her face glowed from a sudden unconscious flurry, she didn't know. Someone was cooking dinner and the appetising aroma irritated her somewhat.

But the door opened in the minute she put her foot upon the last step and Gabor's earthly figure towered in it. He was smiling at her, but his eyes were dark and unsettled.

For nine whole days she hadn't seen him, hadn't inhaled his scent and hadn't combed her fingers through his wavy, chestnut-brown tresses. He wore jeans now and a cream-colored shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, revealing dark curls in between his chest muscles. Vicky sensed immediately the tension in him and it increased her confidence. She found the source of the mouth-watering smell too. It was coming from Gabor's kitchen. The spicy fragrance really calmed Vicky's ruffled nerves. Gabor was cooking, cooking for her!!! Awaiting her with dinner, trying his best to get her back! Vicky repressed a grin of satisfaction.

Arms wrapping around her, he kissed her forehead tensely. The familiar embrace, the possessing way he pressed her body against his had its effect immediately. Vicky's knees turn into jelly. How wonderful it could've been just to melt into his inviting embrace and flow with the currents of emerging chemistry, but her pride didn't win the battle... yet. Guards up and self-control first and foremost. She shook herself mentally and swept aside the emerging emotional-physical turmoil. Stepping out of Gabor's arms, she did her best to emanate calmness with every measured movement. Slowly she peeled off the cardigan that she hung on the coat hanger in the vestibule. She felt and enjoyed every second of Gabor's gaze roaming her curves and with a casual side-glance she discovered instantly the raw fire in his eyes. But she detected something else in there too... perhaps sadness? ... or remorse?... Vicky didn't dwell on that, only bathed in the moment, the first step towards her approaching triumph. Gabor's sexuality oozed from him without conscious effort. It was what captivated and mesmerized many women without any overt spoken words. But today would be Vicky's day...

Trying her best to remain cool and distant, she began: "For the sake of honesty I wanted to look in your eyes today... Otherwise I didn't really see the point of coming up to you..."

Gabor looked down and didn't reply for a few seconds, and then his voice came softly: "Perhaps it would've been for the better... Sometimes I am not sure of myself if I do the right thing or not"

Now, with full of self-assurance, Vicky turned on her heals and confidently pushed down the doorhandle to the living-room and there and then in the doorway she froze. In one of the armchairs of Gabor's beige-velour lounge set the girl was sitting... the rival, Vicky new immediately. She was sitting on the very edge, stiffly, slightly bent forward, one elbow on one of the armrests, fingers interweaved and her apprehension was clearly perceptible. A dove-grey, tight, slitted skirt locked her long thighs. The fabric faithfully followed the soft curve of her shapely hips up to her slim waist. She wore a white, silk blouse; its two top buttons were open and a thin, golden necklace decorated the discreet décolletage. She was probably gazing at the carpet before the door opened and then looked up at Vicky. In her wide-open, warm-brown eyes Vicky detected the same urge for running away from a tight corner that had overcome her in this mortifying moment. Her short hair, up turned nose, small, but fleshy lips gave the impression of a startled deer.

Vicky stepped backwards instinctively, but bumped into Gabor's brick-hard body.

"Don't go just yet... please," he said in a deep, husky, velvety voice, hardly louder than a soft whisper.

Unnerved, Vicky entered the room and with stifled indignation sat on the edge of the other armchair, the same way as her rival. Unstoppable female impulses swirled in her numb brains, measuring up the other girl's features; long, gorgeous things, probably 3-4 inches taller too... but the silk blouse outlined smaller breasts than hers. Perhaps she should hate this girl, but she was unable to. Those startled eyes showed exactly the same vulnerability, the same helpless, inner, emotional turmoil what she was experiencing. She sensed the other girl's glances too, measuring her up just the same as she did.

How stupid women can be, - she thought, and a defiantly bitter smile pulled the corner of her mouth for a moment, - 'enemy' for longer legs... though she's just the same hopeless idiot like me...

The door of the sitting room closed behind Gabor.

The TV-set was standing next to the door. The lounge set occupied the middle of the room. It contained a stylish coffee table, a sofa and the two armchairs the girls were sitting on. Gabor walked to the antique commode at the back corner. Its top was full of bottles and glasses in a bachelor's disarray. What he was doing exactly was out of Vicky's view, but she heard the clinging of glasses and then the flow of liquids. Then in stemmed liquor-glasses he put generously measured drinks on the table, next to each girl. From its colour Vicky guessed Bailys for the other girl, while from its aroma she recognized her favourite Grand Marnier. Gabor probably held his usual iced vodka in his hand as he stepped in front of the telly, facing the girls, taking a deep breath:

"Vicky, this is Agnes, Aggie, this is Vicky," he lifted his gaze formally, but then surprised an emerging sad-sarcastic smile. "I don't expect you to fall on each other's neck..."

The girls endured the situation with stiff awkwardness. Gabor began to pace.

"I believe I know exactly what's going on inside you two..." he began, "for the very reason that I provoked... perhaps even tormented you both. My purpose was to get one or both of you to leave me. You might think I'm mad for wanting to see you today together, but I have a strong desire to tell you what's going on within me"

He paused, drank up his glass, took another deep breath and shook his head as the vodka descended in him: "I needed this..." he mumbled. Agnes took her glass, clutched it with both hands, but did not drink, only gazed into it.

He continued: "Vicky, I apologize for I was only able to tell you everything black and white last Friday... 'cause you didn't take any of my earlier hints seriously. Aggie, she is different, she knew all about you all the time..."

He took a few steps again, like a nervous novice teacher in front of an unruly class, then cast a shadowed glance at each girl: "What I'm about to recall in some details which both of you know, but you do not know the whole picture, and both of you have the right to know it all. I want you to see the naked truth."

Gabor stopped, sighed, only then he started anew: "Vicky, before we met I was going out with Aggie, but something was missing from our relationship. What I got from her was wonderful, but it wasn't enough and I had no idea what was missing. We parted as friends. Then you came into my life, confident, determined, pronounced, totally different from Aggie, who is soft, unassertive, rather timid and submissive... but that was exactly what I was tremendously attracted to. She took great, instinctive pleasure in her submission. I would never know how far and in what direction our relationship could've developed, Vicky, because we were going out for about four months, when Aggie called me and we met for a coffee. It started with a friendly chat and ended with steamy love-making. Our bodies talked to one another wordlessly, unconsciously, uncontrollably. Though when I saw Aggie, the first thing I told her about was you, Vicky. Still, there was no way out..."

Gabor went to the bar and filled his glass again, Aggie took one sip from her drink, Vicky sat dazed and gazed at nothing.

"I became confused about a lot of things over the last four months," he continued. "I was troubled, living with a constant guilty conscious all along. I wanted to be honest, but honesty didn't end my self-reproach. Being with one of you, meant I was cheating on the other one and neither of you deserved such treatment. I was unable to choose and I'm unable even now. I don't want to deceive any of you. I tried to provoke you into leaving me, hoping you had had enough of me, would get bored with me, or even frightened and you would seek someone else. I freed my nastiest basic instincts that any men should hide and be ashamed of. But instead of turning you away I began to notice that both of you were becoming even more attached, that I was opening suppressed cravings in you, kind of stifled desires. It was as if I had opened some sort of security valve and freed unknown energies. Something neither you, nor I had the slightest idea about..."

Vicky covered her face with both palms. She had no secret from this heart-butcher. He was reading her mind like an open book- even her unuttered thoughts. So exposed, so naked she never had stood like this before anyone and she was not alone. She had a partner in this emotional despair, sitting miserably in the other armchair. It felt even more humiliating that she just could not detest this pitiless, cruel soul-rapist over the ruins of her dignity. It was like was cutting wounds, and then plunging in them.

She grabbed her glass and half-emptied it. Then she leaned back in the armchair and allowed the alcohol slowly to diffuse in her veins, warming and loosening her up. Aggie only looked at the hazelnut-coloured liquor unchanged. Gabor drank a little, and then added: "These love makings came with brutal consequences. I desired you more and more, for I gave and received such pleasures from both of you that I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams. I don't even dare to think what possibilities such closeness might hold what opportunities could open up for us in the future

Agnes looked up at him for the first time and some puzzlement broke through her bitter mask of resignation. She lifted the glass to her lips, sipped, and then tuned her gaze back to the carpet.

Gabor continued: "I wonder how many men could get and receive such intense devotion, uninhibited need, wanton self-revelation, wild yearnings I was able to provoke out of you? I was especially astonished by Aggie for she knew about your presence, Vicky all along. And as my devotion strengthened for you both, I began to be more and more petrified from the moment I had to part from any, or both of you" His voice softened and only mumbled the last words as if for himself alone: "But it is unavoidable"

Slowly he looked up, from Vicky to Aggie, like he was waiting for answers, or some gesture, maybe impulses, but then continued: "Many times I toyed with the thought, what would happen if one of you left me. Every single time I ended up with the same answer - the one who stayed wouldn't be any better off, for I would miss awfully the other one. I'm pretty sure the one who left would call me after a few months, or I would call her because I just cannot part from you on uneven terms, because I know it sounds stupid... but I love you both..."