All I See

She was a head-turner, you see. With those big black curls that reach her elbows, those wide brown eyes that always sparkle mischievously and thick black lashes that require no mascara, she could easily enrapture anyone she wants. I first saw her in a local barroom, standing beautifully on the stage while singing Bluer than Blue. Her voice was soft and very feminine. It was melodious, it was soothing to the ears. It will make you feel like the gates of heaven suddenly opened up for you. And so instead of leaving for home, I decided to stay longer. I wanted to listen to her, I needed to hear more from her. I sat there, watching her from the dimly lit corner of the pub, drinking my glass of liquor laggardly. She sang slowly while closing her eyes and swaying her broad hips. I looked around the room and saw that the audience was silent, eyeing her every move with awe and great interest. Reclining, I suddenly chuckled to myself as the irony of the moment settled in. This lady is singing bluer than blue but she was clad in a backless dress that was the color of a freshly-picked cherry. And her lips... God, this woman's lips are sinfully coated with a lipstick the shade of blood. Her voice was reverberating on all corners of the confined space, reminding me that she is a vixen who deserves to be looked upon, a temptress to be admired by men. The magnetic pull was too great that I could not resist. I took another look and all I see... All I see is red. I have a weird habit of associating people with colors. My mother was a white, my father and younger brother are both yellow and my sister was a purple. I don't know how or when exactly that peculiar habit started but I do know that I've never—ever—associated anyone with the color red before. There was pink, there was lilac, there was salmon, there was maroon, but never a red. Her callipygian posterior was nice to look at, her round and perky breasts were a glorious scenery and her small waist was to die for. I could not help but ponder how God could've let someone like her walk freely on the earth. She was too gorgeous that she could beguile men, two or maybe three at a time. She would incite desire. And when there is desire, sin follows. I was scrutinizing all her movements, my observant eyes noticing all unnecessary actions. Her eyes were scanning the room, winking at random drunkards and then finally, those twinkling brown orbs landed on me. I saw the burning desire in them, or maybe she was just simply good at deceiving. Her long lashes fluttered like gentle butterfly wings, giving me a seductive wink. She was Eve, you see. And that act was like presenting the forbidden fruit, the apple of the Garden of Eden. She was unconscious of what she has started, because I will take that wink as an invitation. I stood up, left a bill above the creaking table and exited the barroom. I slipped my hands inside my pockets and walked briskly toward my apartment which was a few blocks away. The clock tower nearby indicates that it was ten in the evening. I thought about the tempting singer and heat passed through me. My breathing hitched, and then my eyes dimmed. I see her lips, I see myself undressing her, the cherry-colored dress falling from her body to the tiled floor. All I see is red. The next day, after I got home from work, I quickly headed to the pub. And as I was expecting, she was already onstage, singing yet another classic song. But this time, she was wearing a little wine red dress that showed off generous amount of her skin. Her long shapely legs were impressive and her slender arms seemed delicate. Everyday after my shift in the office, I would automatically go to the barroom so I could watch her, so I could indulge myself in the simple pleasure of seeing her beauty. And everyday, I would stare at her from across the ocean of bar flies and she would stare back and wink at me. Tonight is the ninth consecutive night. When I walked in, the band hasn't set up yet so I had to sit back and patiently wait. When she materialized in front of the stage, I caught my breath. She was wearing the exact same dress she had on the first night I saw her. Our gazes met and there was a spark of recognition before she winked again. But the wink was different this time, it was bolder and it conveyed an ache for pleasure. I closed my eyes. I opened them again. I looked at her and I salivated. I'm no moron, I knew I was lusting over her. I stayed at the back, waiting. Waiting for all her songs to end, waiting for her to walk out so I could follow. I knew she wanted me, too. I could feel it. In the way she looked at me. And I knew, in the way she threw me glances from across the pub that she was as interested in me as I was in her. The crowd of annoying blitzed out men hooted, an indication that she has finished. She thanked the crowd before she descended on the wooden platform. She c****d her head in my direction, signaling me to follow, before she disappeared in the myriad of alcoholics. She took the other way out, I figured. I hopped off the stool without finishing my drink. I bumped into a few drinkers but I ignored them as I pushed my way out of the cacophonous place. I burst out, with sweat dripping from my forehead to the side of my face. And there she was, standing in the middle of the parking lot, grinning wantonly at me. Her black heels were on her hands, the straps dangling. She headed to the other side of the lot, her curly jet black hair billowing behind her. I walked in pursuit, itching to get a taste of the forbidden fruit. She hid behind a van, but I caught a whiff of her perfume. It smelled good. So f*****g good. When I reached her, she looked up at me, feigning worry and innocence. I extended my hand to touch her silky skin and I almost shivered. She was soft, her skin felt cold under my touch. I brushed a finger against her lips and saw the stain caused by her lipstick. I stared at her lips because I wanted to devour it so bad. All I see is red. I seized her waist and crashed my lips against hers. It was the best feeling in the world, I felt like I could suddenly taste colors. And I taste red. She fought my kisses with her own, she did it fervently while her hands reached down to unzip my fly. She was jet fast, this girl with the jet black hair. I bit her lip and she moaned out loud. And I loved it. Every sound she makes will be my favorite. She sucked my lower lip while I touched her t**s, squeezed them, felt them, completely ignoring the red dress covering them. My eyes were closed and yet I could see. All I see is red. I started to pull down the zipper of her dress but she removed my hand and raised a meticulously-plucked eyebrow. She bent down on her knees and took out my throbbing maleness. She rewarded me with a seductive stare, her eyes almost hidden under her thick lashes. Her lips, her blood red lips, were around my d**k in an instant. She was sucking me, and she was doing it beautifully. Almost expertly. Could she be a courtesan, too? All rationale escaped me when she massaged my balls and went deep. My heart was beating rapidly, perspiration dripping continuously. I grabbed her curls and shoved myself even more deeper in her mouth. She choked on me and it was heavenly. Seeing her in submission was turning me on even more. I loved it. I loosened my grip on her hair and she removed her mouth, but immediately replaced it with her equally sinful tongue. It swirled around the tip while her hand was going on an up and down rhythm on my shaft. I placed a finger on her cheek and caressed it while I tried to steady my breathing. I have no doubt that starting tonight, I will see red all around me. She took me in her mouth again and sucked harder. For the second time, I took hold of her hair and controlled her pace. She was watching me with wide eyes while I pushed myself in and out of her, panting quickly with every thrust. It went on for a few more seconds before I pulled out and let my semen splatter on her face. She stood up, straightened her posture and wiped my essence on her skin with a tissue I didn't even notice she was carrying. And just like that... Just. Like. That. The girl in red turned her back and left. I need more of her. Not just a snippet, not just a taste. I didn't chase, I was too tired to follow. I was sleepy, I just wanted to go home and rest. So I started to sluggishly walk all the way to my humble apartment. The moment I reached my room, I promptly collapsed on my bed. But before I started to drift off and see black, all there was to see was red. That's all I see. Red and nothing more. When I woke up the next morning, I couldn't get up from bed. Something was keeping me pinned in place and that was the thought of the pub singer. Heat was again coursing throughout my veins, igniting me in all the right places, burning me in all the right ways. I knew I had to see her again tonight. I want another taste of red, another sound of it, another touch. I didn't go to work. I waited until the band was on at the pub before I dressed in casual clothes and headed there. She was in her usual spot doing her usual thing while I was standing on the farthest corner, hidden from her pretty brown eyes. She was out there, winking at men again. When she was done, I caught her eyes roaming around so I turned my back to avoid eye contact. When I twisted, I found out that she was no longer onstage so I directly exited the barroom, hoping to catch her. But she must be a fast walker, because I couldn't see even a trace of her anymore. The following day was a Saturday, I went out to buy groceries because my stock was running out. I was paying the things I bought when I caught sight of a mop of jet black hair. It's her. I scanned her from where I was standing and was amazed when it dawned on me that she was wearing white today. Yet all I see is still red. I coaxed the crew to pack the groceries quickly and when he was done, I grabbed the paper bag and hurriedly ran after the girl. I halted when I was already four booths away from her. She was buying fruits. It took her fifteen minutes to completely finish her grocery shopping but my patience was long. I followed her so I would see where she went home and was delighted when I discovered that she lived on the other street. She must be new in the neighborhood. I didn't go to the pub that night, but I dressed nicely. I would wait until she's in her house so I could knock and invite her out on a date. And if she obliges, maybe we could rent a hotel and have an unforgettable night. Or maybe we could do it in my house, in my living room or in my bedroom. It doesn't matter, really. I just want another taste of red. Time was slow when you're exhilarated about something. When ten pm finally came, I was almost stumbling to get out of my house. I was sweating a lot when I got to her street, I was sweating even more when I knocked. The door opened on the third knock and once again, she gave me breathing problems. It was as if my lungs could not function when she peeked through the door. There was initial shock on her face, but it immediately wore off. I was at loss for words for a few minutes and she was behind the door, curiously waiting. And when I was finally able to spit the words out, she shook her head before she dropped a gut-wrenching no. No. She said no. I looked at her brown eyes, seeing the rejection first hand. No. No. No! My emotions burst like a cyclone, destroying all my rational thoughts. She f*****g said no to me. I pushed the door open and started pushing myself in. She was alarmed, she screamed and started to use the door as a shield against me. But I was muscular and she was thin, she couldn't overpower me. In an instant, I was able to squeeze myself inside. She screamed and was about to run but I clamped my hand over her mouth. All I see is red. There was fear flashing in her eyes as I dragged her away from the door. She said no. She was scratching my arms but I clamped my hand tighter and told her not to fight me. She was still wearing her red dress, oh, how I'd love to tear it apart and marvel at her body. Red. It's all I see. She flailed and kicked every chance she got. She was noisy, she bit my hand. I choked her with my other hand and she gagged so I loosened my death grip. I mumbled on her ear, I told her not to fight me. She was crying, her tears spilling all over her face, dropping to her pretty dress. She is putting her tears to waste, there's no need for those tears. I bent over her and removed my hand, she was sobbing. She was pushing me. But I held her by the shoulders and bashed her body against the floor. She was testing my patience, and right now I've got zilch. I lowered my head and kissed her roughly, rubbing myself against her. She kept her mouth shut, not willing to move it so I held her jaw and squeezed until she cried out in pain. I loathe disobedient people. I bit her lip while my hand was busy cupping her tit, she was removing my hand but I was stronger. I gripped her arm and she grew taut, weeping as fear took over her. Why would she fear me? There is nothing to be scared about. I pinned her down more securely with my thick legs and stared back at her. Her lipstick was all over her face, staining her with its color. All I see is red. And red looks f*****g beautiful on her. I reached out for the dress and started to tear it. She cried out every sound the ripping cloth created and it was starting to annoy me. By the time I was able to shred it off of her, she was fighting me again. She was squirming under me and God knows how much I hate disobedient people. I grab hold of her head and bashed it on the floor before I clamped a hand over her mouth again. She looked weaker as hot liquid oozed from the side of her head. She lay there, blinking and crying but no longer flailing. I took off her underwear and unzipped my fly. I kissed her neck and impaled myself on her flesh with ardency. I heard her whimper and more tears came. I pushed in and out, watching her as she grew more pale and weak. It wouldn't have happened if she stayed still, if she didn't reject me. It wouldn't have turned out like this if she only said yes. I was cursing as I watched my d**k going in and out of her. It felt good, so so good. The feeling was dizzying, it was wonderful. So this is what red feels like. I moaned and grunted while I thrust harder and faster, earning a weak grimace from her. Her arms weren't moving but she was still conscious, she was watching me through her pretty brown eyes. I touched her face and stroked her cheek, she blinked slowly while she inhaled to catch for breath. Her cheeks are losing their reddish and youthful glow. Her cheeks are paling. How come she isn't winking at me anymore? I removed her brassiere and licked her n*****s. I bit it so hard that she produced a low sound, signifying that it hurt. But pain is good. Pain is good. I thought she was done crying but she wasn't. It feels like she never really runs out of stupid tears. I hate the sound she is making. It is the sound of anguish. I hate her sounds. I hate them, all of them. They aren't pleasant to the ears. So I bashed her head again, and again, and again. Until her annoying wailing stopped. There was blood on the floor, on her my hands and on my clothes. There was blood everywhere, too much of it. She was leaking right in front of me. She was leaking life. In one final thrust, I gave out a cry of satisfaction. I spilled all of my essence inside her, to the last drop. I pulled out and fixed myself. I touched her cheeks again, examining her face in the process. Her skin was cold and her cheeks were ashen, her lips lost their beautiful color and she looked dull. She isn't a head-turner. Not anymore. Standing up, I had a clear view of the scene in front of me. I looked at my hands and watched as the liquid that came out of her dripped from my fingers to her useless body. For the last time—for the very last time—all I see is red.