What You Know Can Kill You

"did you get what you deserve?"

You get what everyone else gets; you get a lifetime. So no matter what, that's as bad as it can get. Right? I'm not so sure. Take for instance 3 months. 3 months can be tricky. 3 months can be a long time. 3 months can seem like 3 years, 3 lifetimes, 3 eternities... but what it turned out to be, well, it turned out to be much longer. Anyways, if you're measuring time by pain per lifetime. It turned out to be 30 minutes.

It's not so much that you're a peeping tom, not so much desperate as you are destined. Compelled. Fated to do this... to be this. You can't be blamed anymore than you can blame someone with an allergy. It's pretty much out of your hands. How else could it have come to this? How else... But fate being what it is, maybe the question is 'how could it have not come to this?' Fate being fate, maybe no matter what happened you'd be here and she'd be there. And he'd be there.

You ever drive by an accident - say you're eating too - and you just know it's gonna be bad? You see all the signs, the ambulances, the loads of cop cars... dirty business for sure, and you don't turn away? You can't turn away? Biting into your breakfast burrito with little pieces of meat embedded throughout, you just wait for that horrible moment when you see the bright splash of red to be translated into blood by your eyes. You wait for that random object lying around... turning out to be something usually attached to a walking, talking person. Turning out to make your breakfast burrito as appetizing as that guys dismembered whatever. Anyways that's what this moment is like. Locked in. Forced to watch something you'd never even want to think about. Not in a lifetime. Not in an eternity.

all our knowledge begins with the senses – immanuel kant

So here you are. And you thought your imagination was worse than the truth could ever be... But what do you know? You're just a peeping tom. Some desperate person. Unrequited loser. So there they are. And you just can't look away. And what you see isn't just 2 people cuddling. What you see is more than just 2 people kissing and holding each other. What you see is a collision of memories. A crash of hot and cold air giving way to lightning. You can't help but notice every little detail. Every piece of information assaulting your eyes, virtually raping your senses.

I can't see it but I know the fan is on because you can hear it. Spinning around making the same noises I always assumed it only made when I was there... Judas. She has her hand on the back of his head, holding it. He's kissing her, deeply. I can actually see tongue. I can see his, going in her mouth. Hers fighting back into his mouth. It's so intimate. Then his arm is moving, I can see every detail of every muscle, he's so skinny. His hand is moving from 'lost somewhere in her hair' to 'lost somewhere between her legs'. Her hand moves so her arm is wrapped around the back of his neck. Like holding on. Her dress is riding up now because she's got her legs wrapped around him. Intimacy giving way to lust. He tries to kiss her again but she can't concentrate to kiss back- she's got her mouth open giving the occasional moan. Then she's pulling down her panties, the ones with a heart cut out of the front. I always thought those were sexy- now they're evil, evil panties.

So now she's blindly reaching for his pants. Fumbling, trying to find the button with her right hand, left arm still wrapped around his neck. He's busy holding himself up with one arm, the other hand busy being the cause of the noises coming from her mouth. Inside her. She's managed somehow to get at least the button undone and now she's using her feet to push down his pants. He's kind of trembling it looks like. From holding himself up or from excitement I don't know which.

So now I'm forced to see his naked ass, as if it couldn't get any worse. As if his scrawny, muscled butt cheeks are the things I most have wanted to see. As if. She's reaching underneath to grab hold. I can see her arm moving now, the one that isn't holding on to his neck, jacking him off the same as she always does. I wish I didn't know this. I wish I didn't know her. I wish I didn't know what's coming next. But what happened next made me wish I did know.

to be is to do – immanuel kant

The level of excitement is building between the two of them. ::I want to run in and scream:: He's now very obviously trembling and I think it is lust. She's losing coordination almost completely now- I can tell by how irregular her arm is able to keep rhythm jacking him off. So the inevitable; she stops the movement altogether. And I know she's putting his dick inside her. ::I want to disappear:: He's taking his time with this. Or he's teasing. God, he's teasing her! I know the moment he starts to enter her body, I can tell because I see his scrawny ass muscles flex. ::I want to stop feeling right now:: Now she's tensing... She's whimpering... She's saying something. -Wait- She said wait. Maybe she's feeling guilty... maybe she won't go through with it... She's saying something I can barely hear. What?... -Go slowly. It hurts- He's too big. He's trying to fit inside her. He's pushing his dick into her and it's too big so he has to go slowly so it doesn't hurt. God, let me tell you how many times I've had that problem. No really, let me tell you. None. Zero. That's how many. ::I want to not exist:: It's an excruciating couple of minutes here for everyone involved I imagine. Her trying to squeeze him inside, him trying to go slowly, and me over here, trying to not exist.

Finally, he manages to get himself inside her all the way. Oh my god. He's moving now and she must be acclimating to his size. She seems to be completely caught up in the very act of taking him all the way inside because she's absolutely lost in the moaning and noises. Every couple of strokes she tenses but only for a second and I can't help but imagine how wet she must be. I know this because I know her. I know that she gets extremely wet and if she wasn't she would have stopped by now. I feel like I'm going into shock, it all seems surreal. Just a scrawny black guy pounding into her. No, not her... just some white girl...

what can I know? what ought I to do? what can I hope? – immanuel kant

He's really slamming into her, really having his way. And I wonder if she was ever really satisfied with me. Or maybe she was... but certainly couldn't ever be after now. Maybe this isn't their first time. Maybe this has happened plenty of times before. Maybe he's going to break something if he keeps slamming into her so hard. I can hear the wet slapping sounds of contact with every stroke clearly. Loudly. Accusing. Mocking. Laughing. No, wait. That laughing sound is real. That's her making noises I've never heard her make before. She's getting louder. She must be about to come and judging from how hard he's breathing he must not have too much more left in him either. She is actually scratching his back. Hard. This is her coming in a way I've never seen before. This is her almost crying. This is me being psychologically castrated. Now this is him coming. Now this is me starting to cry. Quietly. One drop at a time as he's coming inside her.

perpetual peace is only found in the graveyard – immanuel kant

It's finally silent and I can hear her whisper. -I love you- Fuck. -I love you, too- The last thing I saw before leaving was him pulling out of her. This was after about 20 minutes of them sleeping, him still inside her, me frozen. The last thing I saw was he wasn't even wearing a condom.