Hyeonverse: Dark Reflections

I was a zombie at the office all day, plodding about and thinking of what would become of me. Me, myself and I. My feelings, my happiness, my pussy.

Travis wasn't looking any better at lunchtime. The threat of unemployment had rattled him. His sleek poise, his charming demeanor were gone. This was the man I wanted to leave Frank for? Filled with pity, I dragged him to the parking lot and rode him reverse cowgirl while he cried under me:

"I am finished. I am gonna be fired. Mindy is gonna find out and I am gonna be paying alimony for the rest of my life. I am done for," he sobbed while I strained my pussy walls around his half-erect cock, trying to milk some pleasure, some sensation from the penetration.

A red bike roared, zooming through the parking lot. A mocking skull and crossbones painted on the sides of its fuel tank. It stopped in front of my Mondeo. The leathered woman had a Nikon DSLR trained on us. I was slow covering myself up. Its shutter captured us in rapid fire:

"CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK"

The woman lifted her helmet visor. Heavy makeup on her vitriolic asian eyes.

"Smile, Kate! You're on Candid Camera!" She sneered, showing us the finger before speeding away.

My pussy dried out completely and Travis' erection never returned. Our fuck session was ruined. It was time to figure out how we were gonna unfuck ourselves outta this mess.

The day took its time to end and when I finally lumbered out of the office building, there was barely any life left in me. My colleagues followed me to the parking lot, worried.

"Trouble at home?" Jackie asked in her solemn trademark tone. "You not taking care of Frank?"

"Want us to give you a hand?" Rosamund grinned. "I could use some of that giant juice myself."

I frowned. She had always had a crush on my husband.

A black guy in a suit and dreadlocks walked toward us and I clutched my bag.

"Katie? Oh, my God, Katherine Osmond! Pensacola State College." He shouted in thick Jamaican accent, rushing at me with a wide grin. "What are you doing here, babe?"

"Actually, excuse me? It's Katherine Osmond-Hart, I am married," I corrected him. Did I know any black guy in college? As my mind spinned trying to place him, he shoved a manila envelope to my face.

"You've been served." he smiled, walking away. Amber Clark's gaze skirted over my shoulder and my fingers quivered. The envelope dropped to the ground, but Jackie grabbed it in time. They gasped when they saw the content. The divorce Application Form was accompanied by a photo of Travis and I fucking in the backseat of my Mondeo.

Amber followed me home.

Her eyes watched me as I struggled to open the door. For a moment, I thought he had changed the locks. Not Frank. Please, no.

It was just my nervous fingers, the door surrendered when I put some shoulder into it.

Frank's dirty overalls were spilled over the bed. There were a note and a check. He had quit his job at the docks. The one he had taken to help me pay for my college student loans. The reason why he was always too tired to take me out to dinner. At that very moment, I realized his love for me was dead. I had killed it.

I sat there, manila envelope in hand, looking at what my life had become in less than 24 hours. No. This had started years ago.

"I can't go home alone, I have nothing waiting for me there."

I reached for Frank's overalls and hugged them, trying to suck in any of my beloved husband's warmth. The coldness of its fabric made me cry.

It was as cold as the helicopter pad on the roof of the Dawson & Reid building that night, when we stood waiting for the Millers to buy their way into the firm and kick out the old CEO. I had pneumonia when I got home. Frank stood by me the whole time, taking care of me when I thought I was going to die.

It was 2 a.m. when the Volkswagen Beetle screeched into our driveway. There was laughter. Amber Clark curled on the ceiling. Two blonde girls too young to drink and a man too old to wear a Borsalino. He got out laughing and carried Frank to the porch.

"There you go, stallion. Home, sweet home," he joked.

I ran downstairs to open the door. The man stared at me with bug eyes, ridden with disappointment.

"You're the wifey? Fuuuuck, grandma, way Frank described you, I thought you were Alexandra Daddario." He groaned, dumping Frank on the couch before speeding for the door in dismay . "Sheeeet..."

The car reversed and drove away.

My husband's belt was unbuckled and he was covered in trashy lipstick, the scents of tacky perfume and cheap cigarette smoke. Another night with prostitutes.

Frank's cold eyes were staring at me when I woke up.

"How fucking stupid are you, really? Didn't you get the divorce papers? We are through!" he shouted. What a way to wake up. "Get out of my house, go back to Travis, we are done!"

"it's my house, too!" I shouted back. "You can't make me leave!"

"Have you spoken to NaDana?" He grunted. What did our daughter have to do with anything?

"What about her?" I asked, fearing the answer.

"You dumb fuck! She's the reason I found out," he shouted. "Vailea and her shadowed you for days, after they saw you coming out of a motel near the Swingin' Sappho."

The weight of the world collapsed on my shoulders. My ears were ringing, now. What had I done? What had you done, you fucking bitch? I reached for Frank, grabbing his shirt.

"Frank, please, please, you have to give me a chance!" I pleaded him. "We can make this work. i will leave Travis. Right this minute! I love you. All my life, I have only loved you. You were the first love of my life, Frank!"

Frank reached for his cellphone. A video was paused. He hit play and I saw myself riding Travis in our marital bed, grinning in ecstasy:

"Oh, my God! Oh, Travis, fuck me! Fuck me. Impregnate me. I love you, I love you so much! I want to carry your babies!" I screamed. "Claim me! Make me yours!"

"What about Frank?" He smirked, pumping upward deep inside me. "Won't he be upset they're not his?"

"He'll never know they're yours!" I wailed. "He'll never know!"

Frank stood there, staring at me in disgust.

"How dare you..." I growled. "How dare you? You made me do this. You left me in the hands of those men. No, you pushed me to them. If you had only been there for me, I wouldn't have fallen for them! They gave me attention. They gave me love!" I lashed out. "When was the last time you took me out to dinner in the last ten, twelve years?"

"Last month. It took me four months to get that reservation. You said you had to go to a colleague's bachelorette party." He scowled at me. "I called Rosamund, there was no bachelorette party. You were busy humping Travis at the Westhouse Motel, room 203."

I had forgotten he had Rosamund's number for emergencies. Too much fucking in the brain had blunted my edge.

"You win," Frank whispered with a tired voice. "Keep the house. I won't be coming back here anymore."

I reached for him in panic. My fingers grabbed air.

"Goodbye, Katherine Osmond." He muttered. "Fuck you very much."

Frank left the door ajar when he walked out. Maybe it was his way of showing how he didn't care for whatever happened to its content. I curled onto the floor, screaming in agony.

It was 10 a.m. when Jackie finally called, asking if I was coming to work.

"I am feeling ill today," I replied. "Please cover me, will you?"

"I thought that was Travis' job," Jackie replied. The disapproval in her tone was palpable.

Amber kept me company the whole day, whispering to me tales about all the men she had banged, all the sex she had in bar restrooms.

It was close to 1 a.m. when I finally dragged myself to the kitchen to make an omelet.

The phone rang. It was Frank. My Frank. I picked it up in a daze, so happy to finally hear from him. I was gonna be his perfect wife forever, all I needed was to feel the warmth of his chest against mine once more.

I had left him so many messages.

Please call me, I love you. Please come back to me, baby, I love you so much. Please forgive me, you are the only one in my heart. Talk to me, Frank, we can work this out. I left Travis, he's history. Come back home to me, baby.

It was a video file.

Frank was almost passed out drunk. Something in the background felt familiar, I knew that place from somewhere. I'd been there. Frank was fucking someone. No, someone was fucking him, riding his cock. A woman. Young. I could hear her grunting. The camera shook when she hit her orgasm. She struggled through her spasms to keep the frame still. Then, her face appeared. Rosamund.

"I told you I could use some of his giant juice," she grinned. "You dropped the ball, Kate. You snoozed and you lost."

My scream filled the house. I must have stood there for a long time, the screen had went black when I realized I was staring at my stupefied reflection.

The whore. The fucking whore. She had her eyes set on my Frank all along. it all clicked, all those years babysitting NaDana. How could she do this to me? I had tutored her in 11th grade Math! I had recommended her to Dawson & Reid. I had introduced her to her husband Chad, before he cheated on her with someone even younger than her.

I felt Calamity calling to me.

No. Frank would try to play the hero and get himself shot. Still, there had to be a way...

Owen never replied to my text message. I guess he was a different man now. Divorce had destroyed him. Last I heard, he wasn't doing very well. Child support, alimony and paying for two places had broken him.

Perry texted me back in seconds:

>> Wanna party?

Hey, wifey!

>> Katie's free to play, you game?

I'll be right there. can I bring a friend?

>> The more, the merrier.

Perry was the best fuck I've ever had, he could go on for hours. I stopped seeing him when I found out he was cheating on me with two other girls. He refused to wear condoms and I was worried about STDs.

It was 3 a.m. when he knocked on my door. Friday night, the boys wanted to play and he had brought two of his best ones.

"How ya doin'? I've missed you, wifey!" He grinned.

They were on me before I had closed the door. They didn't even bother to carry me upstairs; I was fucked right there on the living room couch. Perry was even better than before, his mouth had learned so many new tricks. I reached an orgasm within three minutes. His tongue was sliding across my inner labia while his index finger caressed my spongy G-Spot in come hither moves. I was convulsing on the couch, with one guy facefucking me. The other sat by my side licking and mauling my tits while I stroked his massive cock.

Perry didn't give me time to recover. He mounted me and started pounding away at my pussy with abandon. Having him again inside was magnificent, so large and tireless. Feeling him ejaculate against my cervix drove me closer to an orgam. When he withdrew from my pussy and Tits guy entered me, I was so ready to climax that he had me writhing on the couch in minutes.

Tits guy was even bigger than Perry and his stamina was unbelievable. We changed positions half a dozen times before settling for a doggystyle that saw me climax on his cock once again. As he was approaching his own orgasm, the guy facefucking me finally removed his cock from my mouth.

"Lay down on top of him, whore, " he ordered.

Leif was his name, I think. Guy had a fixation with anal and I indulged him. God, did I. As I wriggled on top of Tits guy, howling like a maniacal she wolf, he used Perry's pool of cum on the couch to lube my ass. My sphincter had never been penetrated with such technique, he was an anal master. Between both of them, I nearly lost my sanity.

I was so sore, I just wanted to sleep, but they weren't over with me yet.

It was 5 a.m. when I found myself spinning on top of Tits guy, so exhausted from screaming that my voice was hoarse.

The living room chandelier switched on.

I turned to see Frank staring at me. Behind him, their eyes as wide as plates, were Rosamund, two uniformed police officers and Mrs. Mccormack from next door. My screams of agonizing pleasure must have made her call Frank. "Come quick, they are killing your wife!"

I stared at them in post orgasmic bliss, panting. With a deranged grin and a slurred voice, I muttered:

"I win!"

The divorce was final in six months.

I fought it every step of the way, until the money started running dry. Rain mirrored my mood as I drove to Nadana's dorm in the hope of recruiting her to my side. She had hung up on me and blocked my cell phone.

Amber Clark's eyes glared at me through the rear view mirror as I arrived on campus. The place was so enormous, it filled me with pride. NaDana had gotten herself a scholarship here and she was on her way to do big things.

A vision from Hell quickly deflated me; the red motorcycle from the parking lot was there. A 2003 Kawasaki Vulcan Drifter 800, Nevada license plate. The skull painted on the fuel tank smirked at me like a silent omen.

Inside, a somber group of girls sat on the stairs, glancing at my wardrobe choices with snickering disapproval.

"Do... do you know a Nadine Hart?" I asked, shocked that I hadn't bothered to learn her room's number. "Hangs with a Samoan girl, goes by NaDana..."

"Welcome to the Island of Lesbos," a redheaded muttered. The others rolled their eyes.

"Second floor", their female alpha hissed. "Ask for the Three Musketeers."

There was commotion in room 221.

A fight? No, there was playful squealing. I recognized the Samoan girl's voice.

"Leave me alone, NaDana!" She screamed in between giggles. "I've gotta study for the Biochemistry exam next week!"

"C'mon, Vailea, we're gonna ace it with our teamwork! We're the only students Prof. Hamid even knows by name," NaDana replied. "I wanna ravage that sexy body of yours, we never get to be by ourselves anymore."

"You kidding? We're always alone," the Samoan girl lamented. "Hyeon is so busy with her booming business we never see her anymore. That girl better finish painting her office soon, I'm tired of her using our place as her Batcave."

Hyeon. Why did that name sound so familiar? I knocked on the door and the room became silent. Something fell to the ground.

"Speak of the devil," the Samoan girl quipped. "Female Ethan Hunt is back."

Her smile died before she had fully opened the door. Her eyebrows knitted like a Roman phalanx closing ranks.

"Babe," she hissed between gritted teeth. "Messalina is here."

I recognized the helmet resting on the table, next to a telephoto lenses kit.

To my left, a corkboard displayed photos of two businessmen french kissing in a sleazy hallway. Colored push pins skewered a city map like an acupuncture patient. Hotel receipts, phone numbers and addresses on post-it notes covered the schematic urban sprawl.

The Dawson & Reid visitor pass in the trash can made me shiver.

"What do you want, Kate?" The words hurt. My own flesh and blood, rejecting me. The crossed arms. The tilted head. The piercing eyes. Where did all this hatred come from?

"I'm your mother..." I started. This wasn't the welcome I was hoping for. "Don't talk to me like that, I carried you for nine months! Here, in my belly!"

"Gary Nordquist," my daughter cut me off. I felt the taste of Porto in my lips. "Remember him, Dad's old platoon buddy?"

"Yes, I remember Gary," I muttered, trying to forget our Christmas kiss under the mistletoe. "Accountant, your Dad saved his life in Iraq..."

"Bosnia," she corrected me, turning to face the carnations on her quilt. My mom had made that for our wedding.

"Do you know, as a child, what was the most important moment of my day?" My daughter's lips softened into a wistful smile. "Watching Dad get home. He always looked so sad and tired... like a zombie! Dragging himself in his dirty overalls."

I sat on the bed, shaking my head. That's not the Frank I remembered from back then, he was always laughing and grinning when he got home with NaDana on piggyback. I'd watch them wage tickling battles in the living room, trying to get her rollerblades off while I scolded them for making too much noise. After a day surrounded by distinguished men in tailored wool suits, I resented Frank's dirty overalls on my couch. My hands roamed through the quilt fabric, it was worn out. Old.

"I liked to hide and watch him shuffling in from the driveway, so hopeless and... broken!" Tears formed in her eyes as she relived those moments I never knew of. "And then I'd ambush him on the driveway, wearing the old rollerblades our neighbor Mrs. Mccormack lent me from her nephew."

NaDana stared out into the unrelenting rain. She was actually grinning but her eyes were sad.

"The way his face lit up when he saw me, the way his... you won't believe me, but his whole body transformed! His shoulders, his posture, his face, his smile... oh, my God, his smile!" NaDana held her hands to her heart and for a moment she was five years old again. "Watching him change before my eyes, it made me feel like I was magic, like I could resurrect the dead! I'd spend the whole day waiting for that moment when I could fill my Daddy with joy again.The way he looked at me spinning on the driveway... I was his Magic Rollerblades Girl."

Her fingers touched the helmet as she turned from the window. Tears were streaming down her face.

"I was so happy when Grandma gave me my very own rollerblades for Christmas. Remember them, the pink ones?" She mumbled, staring into the kissing businessmen pictures. Her fingers touched their lips. There was hurt in her voice as she mimicked a child's tone. "They were everything to me. I was gonna do cartwheels for my Daddy. I had trained for weeks, in secret. I wanted to make him explode with so much happiness his smile would last the whole day. By the time he got back from the docks the next day, he'd still be wearing his smile, my smile on his face!"

"NaDana, I am sorry, I... I never... why didn't you... you never told me about any of this " I blurted, remembering that Christmas. "I had no idea, it was just... it was just such a stupid thing..."

"I admit I was a selfish kid," Nadana continued. "I won't say it didn't break my heart to see Dad and Mrs. Mccormack's faces watching you shove your tongue down Gary's throat beneath the mistletoe. But you know what really destroyed me that night? Not the pain. Not the fall from the stairs."

Her face was an emotional wreck when she turned again to look at me.

"They'd cut off the rollerblades! The paramedics. My beautiful pink rollerblades, I was gonna save Daddy with them! I was gonna make him smile forever!" NaDana screamed at me. "I was in a cast for weeks. Months before I was able to go to Mrs. Mccormack's house. She was so shaken by my fall she refused to lend me her nephew's rollerblades. "

"NaDana, I really... I am sorry! We... we can get through this, honey, can't we?" I reached for my daughter. I wanted to hug her so much and make all the pain go away, but she pulled away from me.

"Can we? After we saw you and Travis exiting that motel right next to the Swingin' Sappho? Kissing him just like you had kissed Gary?" She scoffed. "You know, I called Dad that day. He was at home, nursing a fever. You went out to bang Travis while he sat at home waiting for you to bring his aspirin."

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole, right there. My twenty minute drive to the pharmacy that had turned into a two hour mating session. Travis took me against the wall, almost making me cum twice. Then, he licked me into a writhing orgasm on the sheets while Frank sat at home, suffering.

A legion of lesbians had passed by us as we exited the motel room fully sated. They were drawn in by the loud music coming out of the Swingin' Sappho. A remix of The Human League.