ode to memory

i will express this in story form.

the ambiguous word "love" could have been said to have had a concrete manifestation.


the comfort grew. the patterns developed. the months of bliss flew by. shopping in soho. comedy clubs in greenwich village. their families knew of the bond and its importance.

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time goes by









the love grows and develops a complex complexion.



a detailed bond....

events


events



events


events

growth


madness...




the face of the love began to change. there was no objective observer... so everything shifted slowly. no recognition... simply momentum and tardy recognition.
...............................................................................................

the details of happiness are not burned into the emotional index quite like the riddling pain of romantic plight.

the bliss crumbles and the details arrive:

his love of her wit was overshadowed by his distaste for her social persona. he began to fuck her angrily. he would push her legs back and grab her hips with a force that could no longer be construed as tender lust. he always wanted to touch her and she cringed at the thought of his touch.




he was in a rage... he was happy but it was a frenzy of sorts... he was not thinking clearly. he took off his clothes and again she asked him to stop... he laughed it off. he continued to rub her vagina and she began to get wet... she started crying... and in that moment she allowed herself to succumb to the reality of the situation. she looked at him directly in the eyes and asked him if he wanted to fuck her. she suppressed a yell and asked if he wanted to fuck her like his little slut. she grabbed his cock and put it in her vagina. he began to pound her. he grabbed a fist full of her hair and tugged her head back. her chin rose and he pounded harder. he let go of her hair and began to choke her. she kept her mouth shut and began to seethe with hatred. he applied more pressure with his choking hand and she pronounced: "fuck you". he began pounding harder. the clap of their skin meeting could be heard throughout the wing of the house. he let go of her neck and pinned her legs up. she looked at him as their faces came closer together. "you fucking asshole, how dare you"... he put his hand over her mouth and continued to fuck her. he felt himself getting closer to orgasm... he was filled with passion and excitement... she was still letting him in... she was still allowing him access. he knew he was going to come and he decided to do something that she said she never wanted him to do. he pulled out... and firmly gripped her upper neck and her jaw... she tried to flinch away but his grip was too much... he tensed for a moment and then ejaculated on her face. his shoulders rolled back as he finished. his body trembled and he slumped for a moment. his eyes were closed. she grabbed the sheets and ran to the bathroom. she cleaned her face and began to cry furiously. she came out of the bathroom screaming... "get the fuck out"...."i never want to see you again"... "get the fuck out of here and never come back"... "i won't call the police, i will just tell my parents we had a fight"... "just get the fuck out". in his orgasm stupor he tried to reason with her... but he realized that he was defeated. he picked up his clothing and headed for the door. as he got to the door he turned to say something... but when he saw her he knew that it was too late... she was sitting against the wall... he could see her pussy... she was too out of sorts to cover herself properly with the sheet... she was crying and looking at the ground. she did not look up at him for the ten seconds that he stood there. he stumbled out of the house and got in to his car. he drove away baffled.

he tried to call her. he sent her notes. he drove up to the gate at her house. but she would not make contact with him. she obviously had not told the police... there was no action on the front of rape. he wondered about her... if she was okay. he thought about her all the time. he thought about her body... he thought about the nice things. he thought about her wit and the way she loved to show him off. his subjective notion had not faded. he still longed for her acceptance and for the feel of her body. he went on for months in a state of disbelief. he was unable to concentrate or move on.

finally he decided to hop the gate at her house. he saw her car in the driveway and he saw that the lights were on in her room. as he got to the house all seemed well. he walked to the area under her window and grabbed some pebbles from the driveway. he threw them up at the window. he knew that he was engaged in a risky endeavor. if she didn't want him there she would send her father out and it would be awkward. maybe even more than awkward... maybe physically violent. he continued to throw the pebbles but there was no response. he was giddy with anxiety. he was nervous but he was also aroused at the prospect of making up with her and talking with her for hours... and of course making love to her when all was well. so in his quasi-inebriated joy-state he decided to go into the house. he knew where the spare key was kept. he opened the side door and entered. he shut it without making a noise. there were no lights on on the first floor but there was a glow coming from beneath the basement door. he made his way to the staircase. he crept up to the second floor slowly and made his way to her room. the door was ajar. he stood there in contemplation for a moment and then decided to simply walk in. he pushed through.

there was no one in the room. the lights were dimmed but no one was there. he check the bathroom but there was nothing to speak of. he left her room and decided he would check the basement. he made his way down the staircase and quietly walked to the basement door. he opened it silently. at first he didn't hear anything... so he decided to walk down the stairs. he descended carefully. when he got to the bottom of the stairs he saw that the guest room door, all the way across the common area, was closed. he remained still for a moment and began to hear some faint noises. he was unable to tell exactly what the noises were but his heart-rate began to pick up. certainly something was going on in that guest room. he quietly crept across the room and put his ear to the door.

he heard hard breathing and motion. someone was having sex in the room. he knew the layout of the guest room... he had sex in there many times. the bed was not close to the door. he was certain it would be locked but he tried it anyway. it was not locked, he was surprised. he got the door open a crack without making a noise... and what he saw hit him like a bullet.

there she was. her beautiful back and her beautiful hair. she was on her knees with her hands on the chest of the man lying beneath her. he was focused on the contour of her back as he tried to take in the scene. he was stunned... as his eyes traveled lower he noticed that the legs of the man were black. she was fucking a black man... and as his eyes traveled back up the man's legs her realized that she was getting fucked in the ass. the black man's cock was in her ass. she never let him fuck her in the ass. she refused. he looked on in amazement. she was not getting pounded but she was whimpering and grinding down on the cock. he looked on in awe. she was riding the man in a rhythm... she seemed to be enjoying herself. he looked on in a daze... the method of the motion was mesmerizing... he just watched her form and began to become aroused. after a minute or so he heard the man mumble something. suddenly she dismounted. she pulled her right leg over the man's body and bent down to suck his cock. it happened quickly... but as he watched from the doorway something clicked in him. he took note of the perfect shape of her body as she pulled herself off of the cock. the shape of her legs and the symmetry of it all. she was beautiful. the angle that he had made her look incredible... he longed to be the one that she was allowing to defile her. he wanted to receive those angles... he wanted to be the object of her sweat. he completely zoned out. he replayed her dismount over and over... her lines were perfect... her body was firm. he was still in love with her shape. he came back from his considerations and noticed that the black man was coming in her mouth. as he watched the black man's legs twitch something strange happened in the realm of his subjective notion. without any care for the noise he made... he left the doorway and headed up the stairs.

when he got to the first floor he turned the kitchen lights on. he walked through the kitchen on the left side of the island into the main hallway. he flicked the lights on as he went. he passed the dining room on his right and the pool room on his left. he made his way to her father's study. he made it into the study and turned on the lights... he turned quickly to the right, fetched the keys that were on top of the clock... walked to the desk, unlocked the top drawer, put the 22 calibur in his mouth and pulled the trigger. he was dead instants after the shot.












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