Paraluman

13th

They call her a b***h.

Weird but Lola was starting to see herself as one. She wasn't happy about it, mind you. But it didn't make that fact untrue.

Lola sighed and fixed her hair in careless, lustrous waves the way her lover, Arthur, loved.

By the mention of his name, melancholia enveloped around Lola like a forbidding cloak. She stomped her feet and shook her head. She shouldn't be forlorn. Shouldn't feel miserable. For today was something special for her and Arthur.

February 13th. The day when she could be Arthur's number one.

Lola lifted her left ringless hand and stared hard at it with sheer disappointment and acceptance. She was already thirty-three and she still had no family to make or even a husband to hold on to.

At least, you have a lover, she thought and the heaviness in her heart grew. It was too heavy to bear she wondered why she was still standing erect.

The clock struck at 7 in the evening and Lola stared at the mirror for one last time in case she left any tiny detail to make her appearance perfect but not too perfect. She was aiming for a natural look of beauty. For a plain looking oblong face, bushy eyebrows and pointy nose, one must work hard to keep her man interested in her.

Though she didn't know why she was still working hard for it when Arthur always assured her she had the most beautiful tiny lips, green eyes, and dark red curly hair. Granted that he told her that much when she was dressed in her mundane pooh pajamas, just-woke-up face, and morning breath.

The sound of a knock at her door snapped Lola out of her reverie. She took one last glance at the mirror and ignored the regret she saw.

Her tight purple dress stretched in her every silent barefooted step. Before she could expel another breath, Arthur was already in front of her. Dressed in his customary khaki beige shorts and a black shirt folded upward to his elbow. His washed brown hair was still damp from the shower. His stark gray eyes bore expectantly at her.

She swallowed her sorrow and smiled. "I see that you used the key."

Arthur smiled boyishly and dangled the key of her apartment like he held his most prized possession. "Convenient."

He started to walk determinedly like a prime lion towards her after pocketing the keys and taking her hand away from the doorknob. He moved with confident masculine grace. Every movement calculated and precise. She could feel the rush in her veins by the mere contact, momentarily washing away the heaviness in her heart.

Next thing she knew she was in his arms. Right where she really belonged. Her nose met just below his right shoulder and she sniffed. Ah, she thought, she missed his smell. The smell of home.

"Hungry?" She asked after he kissed her breathlessly. She licked her lips and taste him. He watched briefly as her lips moved as she recited the menu for tonight. He liked her lips, he said. Liked it even more if it was plump and hot after he kissed her.

The heaviness in her heart went back to t*****e her. She drew her eyes away from his.

She can't stand it. She can't stand what she saw in those gray eyes. How could she be so dumb not to notice it years ago? The look of contentment in his eyes pierced her heart.

When all she felt was far from contentment.

Uncertain, she led him into her dining room. Her condo was not too extravagant but it spoke loud with personality. Redwood blended well with white & black that lines her walls and her sofa set. Perfectly engraved wood chairs stood beside her dining table covered with a white cloth with three candles resting on the center of it. She smiled proudly as the three-course meal lay neatly around it, momentarily crushing her bubbling emotions inside her chest.

Tonight was all for Arthur, the love of her life. And for the love of God, for her self.

The clock moved from past seven to nine in the evening as they slowly ate. Lola's dread grew and grew as she continued to lengthen their conversation into the safe topics she could lead him to. They talked about anything except themselves.

Why did it surprise her? she mused. For the past three years, they never talked about their relationship.

"Live in the present, Lola." Arthur would always tell her once she asked about them. "Don't think about the future."

Nibbling on the piece of steak between her lips, Lola concentrated on nudging her food with her fork. Ignoring the silence that wafted between them. Mostly with Arthur, silence had always been comfortable. But now it tightened her chest and made her headache.

"Stop it," Arthur said as he firmly placed the wineglass beside his half-finished steak. "For God's sake whatever you're doing. Just stop it."

Her heart felt so heavy she was surprised it was still beating. "I don't understand." She uttered with a lighter note she didn't feel as he stared at his plate. Lola knew that after dinner, just like every year of February 13th, Arthur and she would retire on her perfectly prepared bed to spend the night giving in to their pleasures. Sometimes making love was their priority than dinner.

Odd but they seemed to be not in a hurry tonight. Considering they had been eating for two hours now and no ripping off clothes had happened.

Arthur shook his head. His light brown hair swayed at the movement. "You f*cking know what I am saying."

Lola thought it was nonsense. It was either to avoid it or ignore it. "Have you closed the deal with Mr. Valera?" She asked conversationally.

She thought it could calm him down. Besides Arthur liked talking about his business, she decided.

Only it went chaotic. Messy. Heartbreaking.

Lola could hardly move as Arthur threw the wine glass on the wall behind her sending tiny drops of wine on her face, feeling tiny shards of glass bounced on her skin. The glass shattering was satisfyingly loud against Lola's ears as she stares wide-eyed at her lover who looked ready to shake her in frustration. He was breathing heavily and his hands were fisted. Looking barely on the verge of losing his catastrophic temper as his face and neck turned into a shade of red.

"Say it!" Arthur yelled, leaping on his feet. The clutter of his chair on the floor sounded like doom.

It was increasingly odd, Lola said to herself. Arthur never got mad. Even when she accidentally broke the side mirror of his BMW. Arthur was always fair. He was always calm headed. Always patient and understanding. Compassionate and gentle.

He would never hurt her but Lola still couldn't say anything. Her tongue seemed to be shattered together with the pieces of glass on her marble floor.

"For the love of God, Lola. Don't lie to me. Whatever is bothering you just tell me. I know that sometimes I'm a f*cking jerk but I'll help you no matter what. Tell me. What is the problem? Is it about us?"

Arthur stared at her troubled green eyes. Those pools of emeralds that lighted up every time she was with him was so ugly. So ugly that he couldn't bear to look it.

What happened to his beautiful joyful Lola? To the refuge, he had away from his life-the life without Lola in it.

His Lola. A woman of the world with a dream to travel and experience everything the world has to offer before she reached the forties. A woman whose joy was so abundant you couldn't help but be swept with it. A woman whose love so pure and whole that a man like him shouldn't deserve.

Fear crawled inside Arthur's heart as he stared at her face crumpled with intense emotion, trying with all his might to understand what was on her mind. Was that hatred? Regret? Fear?

Arthur mentally slapped himself from even thinking she would be afraid of him. He would never hurt her. He'd rather lose his legs before hurting her.

"You're not a jerk. You are never a jerk." She countered.

His heart selfishly beat again. She always did that. Trying to defend her to everybody even to himself.

Then his heart stopped beating again at what she said next. And abruptly everything went dark. Dark as his days before he met her. Life, for the second time around, was sucked out of his body.

"I can't do this anymore." She repeated when he didn't react. "I'm afraid this would be the last night. Let's stop this, Arthur."

"Why? Aren't you content?"

She chuckled. It was an ugly sound. He resisted covering his ears. "Do you even know that word, Arthur?"

Fist as hard as granite clutched his soul with no mercy Arthur's knees wobbled. He wanted to sit but found the chair lying uselessly on the floor and gripped the table instead.

Arthur couldn't take it anymore. But he still hoped. Hoped that this was nothing but a show. To make him c***k. A test of his love for her. But when he looked into her eyes, Arthur instantly regretted it. Her eyes, her emerald eyes were now so ugly, lifeless, and cold. Everything about her was now...detached.

He hated it.

Too engrossed by his own emotions, Arthur didn't notice that she looked tired, unsteady, and defeated. How could he? When he was feeling it too?

Lola watched Arthur as he started to pace, covered his face with his two hands, and exhaled. Holding back his temper, she observed. His back looked strained, stroking his hands back to his head and forth, looking uneasy and hurt.

For a scant second, her love for him was greater than her pain. She longed to apologize for hurting him, take him in her arms, and whisper words of assurance.

Astonishingly, all she said was, "How's your wife?"

No more words of love and assurance. Just the truth and nothing else.

Eager to strike back and hurt her, he answered. "Fine. She's doing fine. She's preparing for tomor-"

"Yeah." She instigated, heart torn. "Yeah. Valentine's Day. Yaay!" She clapped her hands without glee. "Having a vacation and a warm night with Mrs. Arthur Radburn. How could I forget? How could I forget that you have a wife and I'm your mistress?"

Whatever Haven she created with the idea of having a wonderful life with Arthur broke into pieces. What a fool, she told herself.

What a fool to believe she could settle with being his number two. His spare. His other woman.

"I can't do this anymore, Arthur. I don't want to be your mistress anymore. To wait for you every single night if you would come to my bed or to your wife. To accept every leftover of affection you throw at me." She held back her tears and stared at him, unflinchingly. "I'm just tired of it, Arthur."

Tired of being not the one and only woman.

Tired of being in temporary love.

"Am I not enough?" He asked.

"Is your wife not enough?"

"Don't include my wife inside this relationship. This is just between you and me!"

She resisted laughing with the irony. "Is it really, Arthur?"

Suddenly furious, Arthur advanced toward her and hauled her up. He clutched her arms and shook her violently. "What is it that you want from me? You told me you will never demand. You only wanted my heart, you said. I love you. I gave all my heart to you!"

Lola was suddenly outraged. "Don't be ridiculous! You never gave it to me in the first place! You just think you did because I was damned convenient!"

"You're not just a convenience!"

"Hah. No complaints about a wife being the first. No demanding phone calls. Keys to my apartment. Sounds like convenient to me, Arthur."

"You're more than that and you know it." His voice sounded feral.

But the animosity and pain clouded her mind. "If I'm more than that you should've filed for a divorce."

His stunned expression and guilt gave her the answer. The reaction was highly expected Lola wasn't even surprised.

But it still hurt the same.

Then she went crazy. Wild and frenzy. She wanted to hurt somebody physically if not emotionally. Being rational was beyond her and getting even was the only import.

She clawed, screamed, slapped, and pinched.

Arthur absorbed the violence as if he needed it. He met the sting of her nails like a punishment. He didn't even budge when her fist met his cheeks and his chest. He didn't stop her. Couldn't even. He deserved it.

The kiss surprised them both. They didn't know who initiated. Which was the one who reached out? Which was the one who got taken away? They just knew they held in each other's arms with the desperation they felt every night when February 13th would end.

Anger strokes assaulted Lola's mouth and she retaliated with the same fervor. They bit until they tasted blood. They licked not to sooth but to chastise. They scratched and tear each other's clothes. No finesse or seduction. Just a task needed to be accomplished.

When no stitch could separate their damp moist skins, Arthur lifted her to his arms and ordered her to put her legs around his waist. Rapidly, he took Lola to her bedroom. Lola, on the other hand, took the opportunity to t*****e him using her lips. She tasted him like a woman offered with f*******n fruit. Hungry and violent. Brisk and rough.

It didn't take her long to leave his face and throat marked by her kisses. She possessed him in the only way she knew how. The only way she was permitted. And God forbid, she would do everything to make him not forget that a woman like her had claimed him. Body, heart, and soul if not his name and ring.

He was aware of what she was doing. It broke his heart every time she would whisper, "Mine", in every kiss she would make.

At last the time came when they tumbled in her bed, he already smelled like her. Jasmine and lavender. He groaned and inhaled it, trying his best to take it in his memory and plead his mind to never forget. He traced her forehead, her nose, her upper lip, then her chin using his hands first then his lips. He remembered it like the back of his hand. When his explorations finished, Arthur went back on ravishing her mouth. He kissed her with intense ardor he always felt when she was in his arms. It had been always like this with her. Raw and wild. Different from his wife; conventional and dull.

She trembled in response and put her fingers inside his mouth and pumped it inside. He licked it hungrily while looking into her eyes, they both moaned.

She put her fingers away and kissed him then, sliding her slick fingers on her n****e down to her stomach, using his saliva to imprint his memory on her skin. She did it again and again, putting her fingers in their joined mouths. But it was not enough. Lola fisted her hands on his hair and yanked his head down to her throat.

Arthur winced at the pain on his scalp but he obliged. Biting and sucking every skin his mouth crossed. His anger and violence were starting to ebb away and be replaced by raging desire. He was shaking as he reached for the tip of her right breast. Rolling it in between his fingers, he watched it went taut and engorged. Satisfied, he circled his index finger around it and pulled it upward and forward before l*****g it with his tongue.

She moaned at the pleasurable pain and writhed against his body. "More." She breathed.

But he wasn't complying. He was lost at the idea of marking her body and make it shiver in his hands. He switched to the other tip of her breast which was already waiting for his mouth. He hooked it with his finger and pulled it upward and forward then repeated the same process.

But it was still not enough.

Gathering her breasts together, Arthur desperately placed her n*****s together before taking both buds inside his mouth. Lola cried out when her n*****s brushed together as he twirled it on his tongue savagely. Her n*****s grazed his teeth and she arched her back. He sucked and licked and rolled both tiny taut peaks in torment, making them sizzle in pleasure. He never stopped until he found her n*****s enlarged and glistening in the light. Wet and warm.

Regretfully, his mouth left her breasts and went to other places Lola never knew she had until tonight. He used her body as a man deprived. Like a man who only had one more chance left to make love to her.

Lola's fury dissolved as if it never happened. She was his. No matter what happened. No matter what the future held. She was forever his.

Arthur felt Lola's surrender and went mad. Madder when he saw her hands lifted over her head and held the headboard, offering her body. Her green eyes held with so much trust and abandon he almost reached his c****x.

He loved her but can't keep her.

Telling himself a fool, he offered what he could. His body, heart, and soul. He would make this good for her, he vowed. He would make love to her as no one else could.

"Don't move." He ordered while putting his pants on and went back to the bed with a hairbrush. "Trust me."

Before she could react, Arthur had placed a pillow below the small of her back, lifting her hips. He took her hairbrush. He licked the bristles first before rubbing it on the swell of her breasts, her sensitive peaks, her navel, and the hair in between her legs. It's rough texture and hard multiple points sent tingles along her spine. She purred like a satiated cat. And when the fine bristles caressed her c******s, she cried out and climaxed.

Arthur was pleased as he watched her eyes glazed and turned into hot coals of emeralds. He was lucky to feel her tightening around his fingers as he continuously rubbed her clit, trying to sooth and lengthen her release. When the last spasm lightened, he put turned the brush upside down, holding it by its bristles.

“It’s time.” He whispered before thrusting the length of the handle of the brush inside her mouth. She resisted the tiny hint of gagging and instead molded her tongue around its hardened length, moaning by the sheer pleasure of seeing approval in her lover’s eyes. Inch by inch, he put it inside her mouth and out of her mouth, only stopping when she couldn't take any more. It was the most erotic thing Arthur had ever done--had ever watched. Lola was the most erotic thing he had ever touched.

Finally, the rigid brush was replaced by his mouth and kissed her with the same intensity she was kissing him. Rapid heartbeats had passed and Lola could feel something hard tracing her throbbing core. Invasive and unfamiliar. She suddenly realized that Arthur was thrusting the brush’s handle inside her folds. The idea and the sensation seemed too much for Lola as she gipped the staff involuntarily. It ached, throbbed, and waited.

"Please." She begged.

She didn't have to for Arthur had his mouth enclosed around her clit and was already thrusting the brush in rhythm with his sucking. It was maddening as she struggled not to put her thighs together. Not that she could because Arthur's shoulders were preventing it.

It was starting to be unbearable and incredibly sensual, she felt herself getting damper in every thrust. She writhed and thrashed as she felt it rubbing on her inner core. The strange texture combined with his caressing tongue took Lola higher and higher.

The friction and his mouth suckling the nubbin was too much for her control, Lola arched her back and shuddered in release.

Arthur let his mouth feel her core shiver at the intensity of her gratification before gliding upward and devoured her mouth.

"Beautiful." He said before throwing the brush away. She encircled her arms around him and held on, feeling lightheaded and spent. All the while he was raining tiny kisses around her face, the tangy smell of her essence still lingered on his mouth.

"Don't let go of me, my lovely Lola."

"Never."

He pushed inside her with words of love slipping in between his lips. She replied with her vow and tightened her hold on him and let him ride her. He thrust violently, rapidly, and desperately. As if he was blinded by the need for relief but wanting it to last.

Yet they were both on the edge of release and all they could do was surrender in s****l abandon with promises they couldn't keep. They sealed it with a kiss and wept silently against each other's arms.

The morning of Valentine's Day arrived, Lola woke up alone on a cold wide bed.