Making A Devil Out Of Me

The distraction had given me enough pause to pull away, rip my penis out of her surprised mouth, pack the penis away, and rush out of the bathroom. I would still feel her mouth on my penis for hours later. The longing for sexual release went only away, when later that day at home, I would wipe one out, while intensely fantasizing about Cat. I had found some of her fresh lipstick on my dick.

Later, when it was time to pay the check, I feared the worst: "Hey, I sucked your boyfriend. How do you put up with his boring, average dick?" Though, she was her usual bubbly self, when she threw the plastic plate with the bill on the table. She had left a note on the bill: "It was a pleasure to serve you." I silently thought, "what an evil double speak." Candice said out loud, "oh, just a nice waitress."

In the car, Candice was sitting next to me. We had our rule out of habit that the driver seat was mine. The passenger seat and all surrounding places to stash things was hers. So, I always carried around a collection of home burned CDs, notes, a plush toy, sun screen, and scarf.

"We are a pretty progressive couple, aren't we?" asked Candice. Her tone of voice betrayed her intention that she wanted confirmation.

"Of course, we are, honey."

"Like last Christmas, we had oral sex. That was pretty kinky." I remembered that attempt. Candice was under a big pile of blankets, because she was too embarrassed to be seen giving a blow job. I was straining to moan, because she only nibbled on the tip of my penis head. And, she had this serious voice that reminded me of a bank teller being bored counting money. After a couple minutes of it, I told her, how crazy she drove me and I needed to finish in her pussy. She was so relieved about that.

"Yep, we are a kinky couple."

"But, we are not freakishly like a weird foot fetish." My heart sunk, because if I could just feel her feet rubbing on my cock for once, that would be so wonderful.

"Ugh, that is so disgusting. What is wrong with those people," I concluded.

Candice looked ahead. I had passed her test. I was glad to mentally escape the car by focusing on the traffic on the outside.

The story could end here. It's a neat story about how I got lucky with a teenage cheerleader waitress in a restroom. However, a few days later, I was walking down a busy commercial street to run errands. "Stevie," a familiar voice called.

I couldn't quite place the voice. I couldn't quite recognize the face. After the cheap 'how are you' exchange, it dawned on me. It was that waitress. Only her whole persona had changed. Her tone was deeper. She looked like a boring tailor's wife with her hair blond hair straight down and the tiny spectacles on her nose.

"I have a secret to tell you. And, please don't share it with anybody. I feel that I owe you as much."

We were both standing in a little cocoon with earnest faces pedestrians swooshing past us. I felt awkward. I wanted to get away. At the same time, I didn't want to be rude and lose favor with her. After all, I'd see her again every Sunday until she'd quite after a few months like all the other waitresses. So, I was going to make polite conversation. After a few sentences, I'd cut her off for being late to go somewhere.

"I have a mood disorder. It's actually pretty severe. The doctors give me a heavy cocktail of uppers. And, when I take those, everything just happens. I think of it and next I do it. It's like I don't have a filter at all. My friends seem to love me for all the spontaneous fun that I bring to their lives. However, I also end up doing really stupid things. I want you to know that."

"Oh, wow, I don't quite know what to say. I am so sorry to hear that. Are you taking them right now?"

"I haven't been taking them all week. I get so depressed without them. It's like I can barely lift my limbs. And, all the things that I did, when I was high, come to my mind. It makes me feel so sorry."

She was ghostly pale. Her slender, sexy limbs seemed frail, weak today. Her shoulders were shifting in a circle, as she was trying to maintain her balance. She seemed weak in her stance. Without makeup, she seemed like any other girl. I felt very touched by the challenges that she must face. I wanted to reach out and help her.

"Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale."

"I feel bad. I feel really bad." Her voice was very heavy. She couldn't focus her gaze on me. I feared the worst.

"Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

"No, no, ambulance. I can't pay for it. I just need sugar. That'll stabilize whatever is left in my blood of the meds."

I took her arm over my shoulder. She slumped onto me letting go of her last effort to remain standing. I had to lift her up with my hand around her back. Her feet did a lazy walk along her body that I carried. All the sexuality that I had felt then in her body contact wasn't there. She was a limp sack that needed to be carried through the door of the little café behind us.

She was lying face down on the coffee table, while I got her orange juice and an extra sweet puffy pastry item with a big peach half in it. I had to life the orange juice to her lips. Gently, like a baby, I cooed her to open her lips. Some of the juice went in and some of it went down her cheek. I used a gray, recycled napkin to wipe down her chin. I broke the pastry item into small pieces and feed her piece by piece, as she became more responsive.

It was kind of cute to watch her chew on the pastry piece. Her mouth was half open. She would struggle with her drool. Then, she sighed deeply. She would open her mouth a little more to indicate that she wanted to be feed again. I'd carefully place a torn pastry piece on her lips. Her lips would gently glide down my fingers to pull the piece with every last crumb of my fingers.

I cherished the opportunity to help someone. It made me feel need. Finally, I had a purpose in life that did something good, rather than re-arranging an entrance door for a month. In a way, my soul had really needed this – to be good.

After half hour, she was more animated. I'd call her state lucid, yet very weak. She started making rational decisions. She called herself to leave a voice mail to remind her to take the meds again.

"Stevie, I am sorry for sucking your cock in the restroom right near your girlfriend. I almost tried to kill myself thinking about how bad I was. Did you at least enjoy it? That way, I am not all bad and evil."

"Cat, we can't do this again. However, it felt really good. It was like a Hollywood dream come true."

"That's good.

I relished the tender silence on my end. Her thoughts were racing to process the situation.

"Oh, gosh, I had a total drug crash. The doctor said that it would be dangerous to get off the meds cold turkey. I need to get home. I need to get back on my meds. I have a waitress shift tomorrow. Oh, my god, I can't be in this state."

Cat got up, grabbed her belongings and ran out of the café. I followed her closely. In her state, she might run into traffic. Or, people changing meds are at the risk for suicide. I have a serious liability problem for not letting her leave alone, even if it means calling the cops to take her into protective custody.

"Cat, hold on. You are very impulsive. It's dangerous."

Cat had already stopped a cabbie by stepping right into traffic. The cabbie came to a screeching halt. All I could do was to throw my business card into the cab before the door closed on me. I yelled through the window glass: "Call me, if you need anything." While the cab disappeared, I added, "any time, even at night."

At home, when I told Candice about the chance encounter, my adrenaline was pumping again. I got that shaky feeling in my guts that made me stop talking.

"What is it about that waitress that turns you on so much? You want to fuck her, don't you? What does she have that I don't?"

"No, honey, I only care about you. You are my everything."

"I see how you look at her. I hear how excited your voice is talking about her."

"Baby, my voice is excited, because the situation of mental disease and a drug crash is so exciting. I would never have an interest at her. She is a walking catastrophe of bad decisions. You are so much more mature and make responsible decisions. You know about getting the best CD rate, planning our weekly grocery shopping. Those things are important for a long term relationship."

"Ha, you think of me as your accountant! You are not getting any more sex for the rest of the week."

We usually only had sex on Saturday, because our week is so busy. Though, it would be a bummer to miss out on that. It was best to leave it with that conclusion. Candice would only work herself into an even more disagreeable mood.

The next day in the office was the usual doldrums. I'd re-ran calculations, wait in a stupor for the computer to finish, hit enter for the next step, wait in a deeper stupor. In between, I'd check my e-mail. The e-mail check was the only way to escape the boring job for a few seconds. Even spam was a welcome diversion at work. When an e-mail from Cat arrived, I sat up straight in my chair. This was a big catch. I'd be curious to hear, how she was doing.

"Hey Stevie, thank you for being there for me yesterday. I got your e-mail off your business card. Attached is a little thank you."

Attached was a slideshow presentation. I stupidly clicked on it. It was a photo of Cat in her bathroom. There were dirty finger prints on the mirror. The flash was caught in the mirror as well. A million plastic bathroom bottles filled her sink top and the floor. The shower curtain behind her was half torn and unrepaired. Her cheery face smiled at him.

I looked over my shoulder to see, if anyone was close. I have a double predicament at work. My office software got corrupted during the last upgrade. When the slide show program goes full screen, it not only disables the operating system buttons and the screen saver, it disables everything. The only way to get out of it is to click through the whole darn slide. The other problem is related to my office nick name 'printern.' Since being an intern, I sit right next to the printer. The office space is sparse and all the junior associates sit in the hallway. Personal photos at work are a big no-no at this serious architecture firm.

So, I had to click to the next photo. Cat was lying with her back on the bathroom commode. Her arm must have reached far out to take the photo from the side. Her silhouette was clear. Her boobs were a towering mountain. Her belly was so fit that it caved lower than the rib cage. Her eyes looked dreamy. Her makeup was perfect to make her look perky and sultry: Those big dark eye liners and the shiny moistened lips.

The third photo showed her with a towel in a turban over her head. Her top had come off to show a black lace bra. She was pretending to be a show girl that stepped out of the shower. Her boobs were so round and full that anyone passing his desk would have that she was a stripper, not a real word acquaintance.

I clicked faster. Yet, my mind was lightning fast to memorize the photos. The fourth photo showed her shaving her legs. The razor blade made a straight line into the white foam on her silky legs. Her pants had come off. She was wearing that tight pink G-string. I had an involuntary boner by now.

I knew the final photo would be naked. It was not only naked. She had a red vibrator inside of herself. Her butt was on the edge of the sink. Her back leaned against the mirror. An aura of fog was around her body. Apparently, she had worked herself up pretty hot. Her knees were bent. And, her feet were with yoga like bendiness right next to her butt. Written across the photo was 'Love, Cat. Call me right now. All I need is the aphrodisiac of your voice.'

"End of slideshow" appeared on the screen. I closed the slideshow and deleted the e-mail instantly. I cleared my recycle bin. I was sitting so close to the desk that my boner was pressing against the table edge. It wanted me to rub the penis against the table. However, I had to pull myself together. I was at work. And, I didn't suck up to that asshole principal architect to get fired before my raise.

Of course, I did not call her. At the end of the day, I walked out of the lobby. I waved the security officer in the parking lot good bye. I liked the touch of being friendly to the small people and not take them for granted. I opened my car, sat down like usual, closed the door. The red door sign on the dash board remained lit. I opened the door, closed it. The red light still indicated that the door wasn't closed. I carefully pulled the seat belt away from the door and slammed the door really hard. Still the light was on. I was confused.

"You do live in a bubble of everyday the same. You don't even see the world around you anymore."

Cat was sitting in the passenger seat. I had totally not noticed her there. I often get lost in my thoughts and miss things around me.

"How did you get in here?"

"Remember, I'm a car thief."

"You gotta leave."

"Don't worry, I only want to show you one thing."

"Like you have anything left to show after those photos! My company reads all my e-mail. I could get in trouble for that."

"Oh, that's good to know how I can get you in trouble. Though, I only want to show you one thing."

"Okay, let's get it over already, if that's what gets you to leave."

Cat pulled out her phone. She pressed a few buttons. Static sounded. Then, I heard my own voice talking about our restroom BJ. "Stevie, I forgot to hang up after I had left my voice mail in the café. It's all recorded and pretty juicy. I think that I get a free wish for deleting it. Or, I could send it to your girlie-girl at home." Cat snickered.

I was willing to restrain myself long enough to at least hear the wish. Maybe, it was something easy.

"I got so horny listening to your voice talking about my lips around your dick. When I took those photos, I worked myself up even more. Now, I am crazy to actually feel that dick of yours inside of me. You said that it was your hot dream come true. Let's just have one crazy fuck on the side. And, nobody has to know about it."

"That's it."

She was half my weight. I was sick and tired of her games. I reached for the phone in her hand. She pulled it away from me. I turned over in my driver seat to get on top of her. She pulled her knees up to her chest. She was wearing cowboy boots with pointy toe boxes. Her knees pushed against my chest to push me away. The best thing that I could hold onto was her top. The top shredded with a loud sound as I yanked it hard. I didn't pay attention to her exposed bra. I adjusted my hand to hold onto her upper arm.

My manly hands got a good grip on her upper arm. When she felt herself apprehended, she stuck out her chest in a way that said 'take me.' Something instinctively inside of me reacted to that by just shaking her. There was no point in shaking her to get the phone. It was simply her pose unleashed an instinctive trigger. It seemed to do the same for her. Her body went languid. Her head slapped back and force. On a primal sense, she seemed to like it. I had the urge to kiss her. I realized that impulse as nonsense. I reached for the phone, got the memory card, and crushed it.

We were silently sitting in the car together. I was trying to cool down the anger inside of me. My mind was trying to make sense of those physically violent impulses that I had. I had never experienced those before. Cat was sitting silently with her torn top. She tried to reconcile her lost black mail item. A blue bruise started forming on her upper arm, where my hand had laid.

"That's assault. You assaulted me. Look at my tits hanging out. That arm is going to be black and yellow by tomorrow. I could call that parking lot security officer and have you arrested. The evidence is pretty clear."

I grumpily said, "Okay, I'll drive you home."

While we were driving her home, I gave her a few sideways glances to seize her up. She looked like a fluffy dog that had a bath. She seemed skinny, small. Her finger tips were tenderly tracing around the dashboard.

"I don't know what we had back there. However, you shoving me around, turned me on in a very strange way. It doesn't make sense. However, I saw it in your eyes as well. You didn't care about the phone anymore. You just wanted to throw me around like a rag doll. In your eyes, I could see something very ancient awakening. It was a very touching moment. It's weird. I'm not a girl that asks for abuse."

I didn't say anything. I turned on the indicator for the next turn.

Cat rubbed herself in the seat and looked around very proud. "So, this is what it feels like to be your girlfriend."

"Well, don't get used to it. Your stop is five minutes ahead."

I stopped the car. I started unbuttoning my shirt. "Here, you can have this shirt to cover up, when you go in."

"Oh, you are so coming with me. I didn't want to tell you earlier to make it easier for you to come here. Though, I have a copy of the recording upstairs."

"You are just saying that to get me in. It took you all this time to think it up."

"Your choice how you want to find out, if I spoke the truth or not."

In the lobby of her building was an old male receptionist. His chin was on his fists. He was dozing. Cat sheepishly told him that I was her new boyfriend, and he should let me in any time. He just nodded disinterested. There was a hint of her bringing a lot of guys up there in his nod.

Her apartment was a studio. It had a pullout couch with messy bed sheets. Clothing was lying all over the floor. It was hard to tell, which was fresh or dirty. I sat down on the edge of her pullout couch. I could immediately smell her scent coming from the bed sheets.

Cat peeled the torn top of her body and inspected her bruise. I tried to project anger to deny the fact that a hot girl in a bra was standing in front of me. She kicked her cowboy boots off. I immediately smelled her sweaty feet. It turned me on like it always does without fail. She rolled the boot socks down her calves. The feet that popped out had shiny red nail gloss. Her feet had the right nobby curves in all the right places. In the depth of me something registered that I actually liked hanging out in those sweaty messy places with girls. It's so intimate.

She wiggled her jeans over her hips and down her legs. "I am just getting into something comfortable." She bounced around the room adjusting little things in her underwear. I had been patiently sitting through the whole thing and barked at her: "Stop the antics. Give me the copy."

"Oh, I'm not turning you on? I thought after seeing me for a while half naked, you couldn't resist."

"I have a girlfriend. That's like a long term investment. I have put so much effort into that relationship that I am not going to risk it by screwing around."

"I imagined it so hot to seduce a random guy."

Cat started crying. It wasn't the silent sobbing kind. She was wailing like a siren. The guttural screams resonated so much inside of me that I felt like my veins were being shredded to pieces. "I'm going to kill myself." I told her to hush. The neighbors would call 911. She wailed only louder and stomped. I put my arms around her and said, "hush, hush, hush, baby." Her body wrapped itself around mine with the fervor of a death grip. There was a deep, unguarded emotional feel to her holding onto me.

I didn't move afraid to trigger her again. She was happily snuggling into my body. She knew that was as much as she could get. My back started hurting. I leaned back on the pull out couch. Her body rested on top of mine. Her face was so close to mine that the vision was slightly blurry. It puts one into such a different, tender state to be at such intimate distance.