Curse of the Ex-Girlfriend Motif

"Blue is fine," he answers for me. "She likes Blue."

She nods. I laugh. There's a hypocrisy at work here. "I can speak for myself."

"I know what you like," he challenges.

I smirk at this. Vampire teeth show and he does not genuflect. "So you think."

He prods her. She shifts, uncomfortably. She swallows away confusion. He prods her further and her lips open. No words appear immediately. But slowly, she forms the sentence he chooses not to speak. "Joel said you enjoy...pain."

I would feign shock for modesty's sake, but I don't feel the pressures of societal mores here. I don't see the need to appease her embarrassment. He knows. And if he knows, she knows. She has likely heard tell-tale versions of scenes; slices of past debauchery to wet her palate.

"You planned this," I turn to him and solely him. "You planned this scene."

"Perhaps," he smirks.

There's a long pause as the cheesecake air in the room parts like the Red Sea. In comes waves of pheromones. Pheromones that no longer belong to me. She looks lost at sea. Poor Hilary. "I'm confused."

Joel tries to shush her, but I feel the need to treat her better. To rise up and avenge his sevenfold sins. I want her to understand that this is a game. Like Cat & Mouse. Dungeons & Dragons. We are the victims. We will not Pass Go and Collect $200. "He orchestrated tonight."

She nods once. She still does not understand.

"He intended for us to meet, and for the three of us to be alone tonight," I clarify. I don't dislike her, but I do resent having to spell things out for this youngster. I resent her age and her firm body and her solid millions. I resent that he left me for a younger woman who is not even a woman, but yet still a girl. I'd rather he have chosen Britney Spears.

"You can't prove that," he argues like a Law & Order defendant. Oh yes, he will play the innocent angle until the death. The innocent twin. The shameless victim. The broken-hearted boy from Maryland. It's all a lie. Don't believe the lies.

Hilary seems to devour the information, process it speedily, and return her dividends immediately. She is now on course. Realization dawns across her plain but beautiful features. "That's why you approached Blue."

He is suddenly mute.

"That's why you asked me to invite her here," she challenged. She was feisty in her accusation, but She-Ra she would never be. Girl Power, Hilary, girl power.

"And let me guess," I smirked standing up and peering accusingly down at the defendant. "You're the one that made damn certain that Sonia received an invitation- plus one- for the premiere?"

"I'd never met Sonia until tonight," he defends. Pathetic. His expression tells the truth. The cold, hard, honest truth of the matter at hand.

Hilary stands up beside me and nods. Girl power. "Joel, you did! You told Jeffrey to send the invitation to her and-"

The guilty lines of his sculpted face seem to meld into a curious smirk. Amusement evident, he stands up and forces a wedge between us. He raises his hands to his face, then slowly places a finger over his pursed lips. Silence. He grins. "Maybe I did."

"Maybe?" Hilary questions with a mocking laugh.

"Maybe I wanted tonight to be special," his voice is suddenly coaxingly soft. Like a charismatic leader, he is. David Koresch on a smaller scale. Hell in a hand basket. The devil on wings of lead and lips of deceit. "Maybe I wanted tonight to be a night you'd never forget."

His words are focused on Hilary. Her eyes are focused on his words. She blushes and bows her head. Spice Girls, we need back up! Girl power, goodbye.

"I wanted to make tonight something like your dreams," he assuaged. His words were a net, she a butterfly. But I was not about to let her die like this. No, I would not. I would summon up my spice.

"The only thing you're making is an ass of yourself," I spat. Somehow, it held no venom. Somehow, it had been intended to crush and had fallen short. I had brought my bullets but instead, fallen victim to love. Lust. The most dangerous game.

Joel turned to me then, as an animal might regard its prey. His gaze was knowing, and it held power. He was Master, I was slave. Hilary was slave. We were doomed. He grinned and broke the hearts of millions. "That's what tonight is about, Blue. Tonight is about ass."

He was so serious; it was comical in its delivery. Had I not been a deer in headlights, I might have laughed. But I did not laugh- or snort- and Hilary did not flinch. She was now reduced to a gorgeous little blonde statue. The fight was mine and mine alone. I nodded then and tried to smirk fiendishly. I looked like the idiot I felt I was. "Tonight is over, Joel. I am leaving." But my feet didn't move and my heart stayed glued to my sleeve.

His lips curled into the knowing smile of a victor. He was the gladiator on the victory chariot. He turned, grasping Hilary's hand and reaching for mine. He devoured my body with a knowing calculation as he led me toward the bedroom. As he led Hilary to slaughter.

* * *

The bedroom was exquisite beyond words. If I said this was a little girl's dream, I would be under-representing this gorgeous paradise of pillows, satin, silks, and veils. From the veils that sheathed the bed in its own island of sin, to the silks of the sheets and the satins of the comforter. All red. All gorgeously new. Thread counts exceeded your yearly salary, and I'm certain mine, as well. The stuffed animals were missing, the pinks were not represented. But dreams and fantasies could be fulfilled here. Little girls' dreams and not-so modest girl's fantasies.

"Welcome to my den of sin," he gestured us inside with a knowing glint in his eyes. Like lambs to slaughter. We are lambs.

He placed Hilary softly onto the bed, seated me beside her. We did not speak, did not move. Simply allowed him to pull our puppet strings as he saw fit. This felt like a lurid NSync video. Like he was about to laugh and say bye, bye, bye.

"This is her first time," he spoke like the Master of Ceremonies. "That's why tonight has to be special."

If my lips had permission to do so, I might have asked why she'd decided on myself as her first woman. Why did this young girl want to share her first bisexual encounter with a stranger? She knew me about as well as she knew the doorman downstairs, or the maid that had brought extra towels to the pool. She did not know me at all.

"Blue," Joel cooed. It was then that I realized he was kneeling in front of me. His lips moving slowly, his eyes trained upward into my own lost gaze. "Blue, I wanted it to be you."

I nodded.

"Hilary wanted it to be you," he adds. Now she is a co-defendant at this trial.

"I did," she testifies in her defense. "Blue," her voice cracks with the anxiety of her testimonial. Judge, please get her a tissue. "I wanted my first time to....I wanted....you here."

"Why?" I am able to ask. Only this. No more.

He grabs my hands in his much larger set. They are calloused and raw. He plays guitar now. Just like he has always played my heart. "Tonight is Hilary's first time. I wanted to make it special. We wanted to make it special."

"How?"

She spoke now, but her eyes remained transfixed on her feet. They were petite, just as the rest of her, and well cared for. Her pedicures probably numbered in the thousands, probably cost in the thousands. Probably shamed us all. "I've never had sex," she confesses and her eyes do not break from her royal toes. "And I'm afraid."

"Of?"

"Pain," Joel smiles and squeezes my hands. "She wanted someone to be here for her, to help ensure her pleasure. To guarantee she enjoys every moment and never forgets this night."

"Life carries no guarantees." There! I formulated a coherent sentence. That was difficult, but it can be done. Just as Joel can be done. But can I do Hilary? Can I fornicate with a virgin? With a teenager? With a girl that should have reached her curfew hours ago and yet, continues to party into the night behind her parents' backs? She is just a girl. I am a woman.

He squeezed my hands again. Somewhere behind his current machismo is the man I once knew. The man I once spooned with, shared sonnets and songs with; a man that filled my life with happiness simply by being. Now he shares that with a child. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wanted to laugh. I wanted to laugh at my ex-fiancé doing his best Michael Jackson impersonation. But with little girls.

"Say yes?" he pleads. "Say yes, Blue, and we can show you so much pleasure."

"Please?" Hilary questions. Her eyes show no emotion, her words belie no truth. She has reverted to Stepford mode. She is living his fantasy. She is living a lie.

This alone makes my decision simple. "I can't do this. This is not what she wants," I tell him. He drops my hands. His eyes glaze with anger. His entire body seems to become enveloped by a black cloud. Baby's black balloon makes her cry.

"This is her fantasy," he demands. To the jury, he is appealing. "She asked for this, Blue. She wants this."

"No."

"Hilary, tell her!" he demands. His robot girlfriend appears to soften, she is attempting to become believable. Perhaps he pushed the remote control in his pocket, and reverted her to human mode.

She swallows. Another human action. She crossed her hands in her lap. So ladylike. "Blue, please. This is what I want."

Spoken well. Spoken like a Weird Science character. Spoken like a dutiful girlfriend trying to win over another woman for her boyfriend. After all, threesomes always equal love, right? Those that fuck strangers together, stay together, I always say. Or not. Or worse. "I'm sorry, but no."

He clutches my hands again and dons a faux smile. A faux demeanor of softness. "Blue, do you remember our first time? Do you remember how scared you were?"

"Nervous."

"You were so nervous," he plays the game, changes his words to affect the best response. "You didn't take the greatest amount of pleasure from the experience. You could have, if we had planned ourselves correctly."

I stare at those convinced brown eyes. He believes his own words. He's bought into his sob story. He's paid enough money to buy her in too. Clearly, he has. She seems convinced. Charismatic? Definitely. "I never wanted to share you with another woman on our first time together."

"But Hilary's different," he assuages. Promises he can't keep sway in the air. "She wants this. She wants to have another woman here."

I don't buy into the hype.

"Blue," Hilary whispers and her voice is soft, angelic; the child she truly is. She pauses to collect her thoughts, but the woman speaks instead. "This is what I want. He hasn't prodded me. He hasn't put thoughts in my head. The photographs I saw of you together, those put the thoughts in my head. Those made the decision easy. I can't tell Tiger Beat that I'm bisexual, Blue. I can't call up Teen People and ask them to set me up with a gorgeous woman. My life- everything about it- has to be lived in secret. I do my best, but I'm still young. I've waited this long. I've denied myself this long, but now it's over. If you don't want to be with us, I understand. But I'm asking you to spend this night with us not for Joel, but for me. I am attracted to you, I want to be with you."

Like a sharp slap in the face, the woman inside had spoken. Her needs were clear. She was not a robot, not a toy. She was her own being. I trusted her as best you can trust an honest stranger. My body didn't question the way her words made it feel. It questioned the evil that men do. The evil that a particular man can do.

As if an afterthought, he rose and brought me with him. His eyes had hazed back to the man I once knew. He was a ghost of his old self. He smiled and broke hearts. "Blue," he whispered in my ear as he embraced me. "I'll always love you."

I didn't embrace him back, instead I allowed my heart to speak. And what it said was simple. "I'll always love you too."

"Then be with us?" he smiled, excited at this revelation of spirit. "Please Blue! This is a chance for us to be together again."

"With Hilary," I gestured to the woman who stood a few feet away, observing the embrace. "Joel, you belong to her now."

"But I'll always love you," he defended.

"That may be true," I smiled and, as though his skin were magnetically attracting me, I ran a hand over his cheek. "That may be true, Joel, but you love Hilary now."

He guided me toward the door and sighed heavily. I stepped outside as he leaned in the frame, Hilary disappearing from the background. Presumably, heading for her destiny. He frowned, hefted another sigh. He watched me leave, watched as took a great and tumultuous three steps. Three steps away from him before he stated simply, "I don't love her, Bee. I'll never love her the way I love you."

* * *

The door is made of a heavy wood conglomeration that I can only deduce is expensive. This entire place is expensive. Chandeliers in the hallways, plush carpeting. Their suite had been exquisitely detailed and furnished with only the finest. The suite, that is, that lay on the other side of the door. You know, the opposite side of the universe from where my feet are glued to the floor. I can't move. I am helpless. No doubt a victim of another spell.

Mind working overtime, I start to try and translate his last words.I'll never love her the way I love you he said. But what did that mean? What does it mean to love someone when you are dating someone else? What does it mean to love someone you broke up with? What does love mean if you break hearts with your smile? I don't know the answers, I am only human.

So my human hand knocks on the door and waits. Waits with a heavy heart and burning blood. Waits for someone to come back and take those words back; or for him to appear and make them feel real. But I've been standing here for twenty minutes, glued to this spot, and I know they are already involved.Involved.

That's why I tried to knob. That's why I opened the door. That's why I re-entered the suite that Joel had left unlocked. Unguarded from the cruel interruptions of the outside world. That's why I translated his words at that moment and allowed myself to follow the sounds of his voice to their bedroom for the evening. Simple. That's why I couldn't allow him to give everything to her alone. I had to partake.

They were already in bed. She was still wearing her faultless white dress, he was still wearing his strange black ensemble. Her golden high heels were tossed to the floor, along with some matching jewelry. That was the entire undressing before my eyes. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling and giggling with delight as he kissed her neck softly.

I cleared my throat as I took the step from innocent bystander toward guilty accomplice. I donned a smile and entered the bedroom. "Excuse me, but do you need a third?" I heard myself ask.

His attention shot up from her body, and she sat up slowly to watch my intrusion. I tried to embody the tigress inside as I moved toward the bed and wedged myself between them. He repositioned himself to my side, allowing me access to her lips. To her body. To her entirety. I lay her back on the bed, felt the softness of her body meld with the softness of the bed. It was a beautiful thing. She was a beautiful thing.

"I've never done this before," she whispered. It was timid, my little lamb. But I would not lead her astray.

I nodded and smiled with my best reassurance. "I'll guide you."

She smiled, closed her eyes as I sucked her jaw softly at first then with the addition of my teeth. I would not bite her, and I would not allow him to bite. Tonight's pain would solely be my own possession.

He seemed to understand this unspoken agreement, as he loomed over my body and bit softly at my neck. When I turned to acknowledge him, breaking my lips from Hilary's addictively soft kiss, he grinned. "I knew you would come back, Blue. You always come back to me."

"Tonight," I mouthed.

"Tonight," he whispered softly into my ear. "Tonight, you will cum for me, Blue. I will make sure of that." His words made my body respond. His words forced a moistness between my thighs. His words fingered my sex as he continued his seductive onslaught. "Tonight, Blue, I'm going to fuck you so hard. I'll hurt you, Blue, and you will beg for me to do it more. Faster. Rougher. Like you always do."

Hilary moaned. It broke my concentration for a moment, and my eyes snapped toward her body. He had a finger up her dress as he spoke into my ear. A multi-tasker. Joel had always been good at multiples.

"I will fuck your ass," he continued, grinding himself against my ass. "I will make you scream with delight, Blue. You always do. I'll make you bleed and cry out, but you will love me for every pain you feel in the morning hours."

Hilary moaned louder this time. Joel grinned down at her, then grinned at me. "I want you to take her. Make her your own, Blue. Teach her what she has yet to experience."

"And then give her to the Master?" I challenged. I was grinning too. I was suddenly hungry for the kill.

"You know how it works, Blue," he smirked, taking a step away from the bed and disappearing into the hidden shadows of the large room. Played out just like a porno film, this evening was already promising to be film-worthy. Joel in the shadows, a beautiful blonde on the bed. I felt like I had won Lotto, and sold my soul to do so.

"Blue, aren't you going to kiss me?" the blonde pleads. Her does eyes are larger than ever, her jewelry a faded memory. Her dress had found a new home over a bedpost, and the veil on the left side of the bed appears to be held open. I won't over analyze a bedpost when I have a beautiful woman waiting on me.

My mouth sealed with her supple lips. Her touch was perfectly inexperienced, yet soft and curious. She searched my body with her hands, the pads of her fingers. She explored my back, my hips. Slowly upward she moved to my stomach and chest. My breasts seemed to require special attention for her work, and she broke the kiss to visually fondle my flesh. "You are so beautiful, Blue," she smiled as though I were a gift she was about to unwrap. I was Christmas Morning. "Your breasts are amazing."

His voice filled the air with his presence. "I've always loved her tits."

She ignored this and continued her work. I was made to lie back on the bed, to expose my breasts entirely. My blouse, albeit what little of it that there was, was removed. Tossed aside and forgotten. I had worn no bra that night, so as to make a statement. She had understood, and accepted my left nipple into her warm oral cavity. The pleasure she gave was unequaled at that moment. Like a seasoned pro she knew the delicate line between the pleasure of tongue and the pain of teeth, and like a great acrobat she walked that line with ease.

My body had responded automatically, finding her breasts and trying to mimic her ministrations from its prone position. She hadn't worn a bra, and her pert breasts offered themselves immediately for my attention. Her lips were brown, already erect. My touch was clumsy. I played the role of the inexperienced virgin as she inserted a steady finger inside my body and stroked me toward climax.

"Remove her pants," he directed from the blackness. "Hilary, remove Blue pants."

My Dickies disappeared.

"Position her over this way."

She complied, positioning my spread legs in the direction of his voice. Our audience of one paying customer. Audience, director and actor. All in one beautiful body.

"Taste her," he directed, his voice filled with gruff lust. Raw sexuality. "Hilary, taste Blue."

She removed her finger from my engorged clitoris and I sighed. I didn't want the loss of contact. Didn't want to feel empty. But the scene she gave all but made up for my loss. She licked and suckled at her moist digit, mimicking fellatio as she cleaned my juices from her finger. "Mmm," she cooed dramatically. "You taste so good, Blue."