Eros: The Obsession

Chapter Two

Jun watches as Tara stands in front of him, in nothing but a sheer white robe. It clings to her body like a second skin, accentuating the curves of her hips and breasts. The dark peak of her n*****s shines through the flimsy material and he feels a familiar pool of heat in his gut. She reaches a hand out, beckoning for him to walk forward with a crook of her fingers and Jun moves without really registering it.

When he gets to her, he wraps his arms around her waist, fingers splayed out as they slide across the warmth of her body. She's so soft and pliant, eyes hooded with affection as he pulls her closer. And then, suddenly they're kissing.

Her lips slide against his, warm and wet as an inquisitive tongue pushes into his mouth, licking at him with a hunger he knows all too well. He gives in to her easily, groaning when her lips wrap around his tongue, pulling it into her mouth. His hands move to her neck, gripping the base of it with a firm palm as the other hand tilts her head up, teeth clacking against hers as their tongues fight for dominance. 

And then he bites down.

The blood is sweet, warm in a way he expects but nothing like anything he's ever tasted before. It's pure, just like everything about Tara is. She doesn't seem fazed, pulling away to smile at him with her teeth coated in blood.

But then it keeps coming.

Blood continues to pour out of her mouth, running down her body in streams and staining everything in its wake. Her robe turns a deep red, the blood dipping between the valley of her breasts until everything is red.

When Jun's eyes flit back to her face, he wishes they hadn't.

The warm brown of her irises are enveloped in a piercing black, a formless void where her eyes used to be. When she smiles, it's twisted, a cruel mockery of the tender pull of her lips. "I love you, Jun," she whispers in a deep baritone like a thousand voices speaking at once.

Jun shoots out of bed, gasping for breath as the sheets pool around his waist. He's covered in sweat. It  drenches the sheets and makes his hair stick to the back of his neck and over his forehead. He feels sick, hot and cold at the same time and it's only when he flicks the side lamp on, that he realizes he's at home.

A dream then.

A horrible, twisted dream no doubt triggered by his interaction with the crazy old hag he'd spoken to yesterday. Even now, he can't shake the image of a blood-soaked Tara out of his head. Bile rises in his throat and he throws his legs over the bed to run to the bathroom. He freezes when his eyes land on the prominent bulge in his pants.

And as he stares at the dark outline, he's hit with a barrage of feelings, the most prominent being arousal. His c**k feels heavy against his sleep shorts, balls strung tight and almost ready to burst. Jun swallows around the lump in his throat, mouth suddenly dry as he contemplates what to do.

He's not going to jerk off to that horrible dream, regardless of how pent up he feels. So Jun does the next best thing.

His hand reaches out to his nightstand, fingers searching for a moment before they rest atop the cool metal of his phone. He brings it close, turning it on and tapping away at the screen as he goes into his hidden folders. When he finds the video he's looking for, he hits play.

The room is silent for a moment, before the telltale sound of a moan comes through the speaker. The video is grainy, heavily zoomed in and pixilated, but he can just make out the distinct bounce of Tara's hair through a window pane. At the angle it was the recorded, the video does a good job of cutting out almost all traces of Ren - save for the pale white of his thighs as Tara sits on his lap.

Her breasts bounce with the effort it takes to move against him and Jun imagines himself in Ren's place, imagines pistoning his hips forward as he takes a firm n****e into his mouth. He imagines the hot, wet warmth of her around him and it's almost enough to forgive the presence of her boyfriend.

Swallowing the drool that's built up in his mouth, Jun reaches his other hand down to his member, fingers dragging against the firm flesh over the material of his shorts. The action sends a spark of heat right up his c**k and Jun hisses in pleasure. He knows he won't need a lot of coaxing to get off with how close he already is, but he likes to draw out his fantasies a little when Tara's involved. So he shuffles to sit back against the headboard before pulling out his member, the head an angry red. Wrapping long, slender fingers around it, he rests his head against the headboard and closes his eyes.

He imagines Tara here with him, imagines that it's someone else peeping in on them. In the video, Ren's hands rest on her waist, guiding her on his c**k but in Jun's imagination, her hands rest atop his on either side of them, fingers linked together because he knows how needy she gets when aroused, knows that she craves small affectionate gestures and intimacy.

He would drop chaste kisses atop her skin, down the valley of her breasts, over the dark moles that rest in the dip of her collarbone. He would shower her with praise and affection as she works to bring him to his peak, sweet pet names leaving his lips.

And she would cry, pleased little tears as she hiccups her thanks and tells him that he's the best she's ever had, that she was made for his member and the way it carves itself a place inside of her. She would whine, pretty little mewls spewed forth from swollen lips that beg for him to go faster, harder.

Jun hisses as he almost cums, fingers slowing their pace as his toes curl in anticipation. His thumb drags across the tip of his head, the feel of it teasing, gentle, and he imagines that it's her tongue, tentative and shy as she takes him between kiss-swollen lips. He wonders how good she is at giving head, wonders if it's something Ren's bothered to teach her. He hopes it isn't. Jun relishes in the thought of being the first c**k she takes into her mouth. He'd teach her how to give head like a champ, would teach her exactly what to do to have him c*m down her throat, would teach her how to savor every drop.

His attention is drawn to the video again when he hears Tara whine, high-pitched and strangled as she reaches her peak. Her hips drop down onto Ren with vigor, smacking against his thighs so loudly that the camera picks it up. Jun can't see her s*x, but he bets that she's wet, bets that she'll stain the sheets with how worked up she gets.

His fingers grip tight around himself, jerking in a frenzy as he listens to her pleased little whines. The audio is low enough that when she breathes a quiet ,"Ren," Jun pretends that she's saying his name, instead. He spills into his hands, groaning as he does.

It takes a while for him to catch his breath, his heart reverberating wildly in his chest. 

He tries not to think about the fact that he'd been achingly hard after a nightmare about Tara bleeding out in front of him and shambles over to his bathroom to get ready for the day.

His chest still aches, a phantom hand squeezing his insides like it had in Madam Rosmerta's trailer. When he checks his body in the mirror, he sees nothing that warrants his worry - just too-skinny ribs and pale skin covered in a sparse amount of hair. No scars, no other-worldly lumps growing out of his stomach - nothing. 

But he feels it. Feels something in his chest, a distant shadow of the pain he'd felt yesterday. Jun shrugs to himself, assuming he'd just imagined it and that he's just freaked out by the events of his run-in with the crazy psychic.

He throws on a shirt - un-ironed and stained because what's the point of impressing Tara when she's so out of reach now - and slips his hair into a beanie because he can't be bothered with styling his hair today. He grabs his trusty camera, more out of habit than an actual desire to use it, and makes his way out the door.

Jun and Tara step outside at the same time. He stops short, unprepared to face her.

"Jun!" She greets in a friendly tone, "Hi!"

There's a twinge of disappointment that settles in his chest. He hadn't expected the spell to work, not really, but her completely normal reaction angers him.

"Hey," he replies in a subdued tone. He keeps his eyes on her face, fearing his reaction if he glances down at her fingers.

"Of to work?" she asks, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. It's her left hand, the one with the giant diamond ring. It unabashedly glares at him, taunting his willpower.

"Hmm," he hums noncommittally and nods his head in the direction of her hand. "Congratulations."

Tara c***s her head to the side in confusion, taken aback by his words before she seems to realize what he's referring to. "Ah, thank you!" she gushes, dropping her head shyly as she plays with the ring. "Ren proposed on Saturday."

"I saw your post," Jun tells her, proud of himself for keeping his voice stable. 'You're making a mistake,' is what he wants to tell her. Instead, he swallows past the lump of emotion that clogs his throat and cracks a fake smile. "I hope he makes you happy." His voice softens at the end, a hint of resignation in his tone.

She frowns like his words displease her but quickly schools her expression when Jun raises an inquisitive brow. "Right, of course. He does," she says in a clipped tone.

What the hell?

Jun wants to question her reaction but she stands upright, quickly turning to her apartment door. "I'm sorry, I left something inside. I'll see you around!" She shuffles in before he can respond, slamming it in her wake.  

He stands there for a moment, mouth agape in incredulity as he just looks at the place where she'd been standing. Jun shrugs to himself, figuring that Tara's having an off day. He continues on his way to work, a little disheartened about not being able to get any new pictures in today but hoping that he'll actually be early for work once in his life.

He doesn't notice the pair of almond-shaped eyes that follow him from the third-floor windows with an almost guilty inquisitiveness.