Erotic story: “Everything goes too wild, too heavy-handed, just the way I want him now”
On the train back to Amsterdam, Roos becomes increasingly restless. Just one more hour and then she will see Cas again. At her home. What could he have to say to her after that phone call?
Cas wants to talk to me. He sounded short on the phone, maybe even a bit bitter and unfriendly. As if he was trying to create distance by acting that way. The days in Paris dragged on maddeningly long. I could hardly enjoy the memory of Benoir. Jerk, he even spoiled that little pleasure for me. The distraction I should have had now only links to that phone call on the way to Gare du Nord. Annoying things shouldn't be postponed, I know, so he will come by right away when I'm back in Amsterdam. During work hours, so Sophie won't ask questions.
The doorbell rings. I take a breath and pull open the front door. Cas bounces from one leg to the other. A frown forms on his forehead. His normally relaxed posture is nowhere to be seen. He is nervous. “Come in,” I say softly. As I turn around and walk into the living room in front of him. I am aware of every movement he makes behind me. His quickened breath, his gray coat over his arm, his restrained steps adjusting to mine. Cas pulls the chair across the table back, as if he is creating a natural barricade. Keeping distance, his whole body screams. He waves away the coffee.
‘He throws himself on top of me’
I would prefer to fill the emptiness, the silence in which he says nothing, but I bite my lip to keep the words inside. Cas stares at the tabletop and starts with a disjointed story, but then his voice suddenly sounds loud and clear. “Sophie thinks something is going on with someone, but she has no idea it’s you.” For a moment it feels like my heart stops. I feel the pain of my dear friend. The pain that I caused. When I slap my hands over my face, Cas suddenly stands next to me. He takes my hands and holds them. “She must never know it was you,” he whispers. “Never.” The fear of losing my friend nests deep within me, but at the same time, Cas’ hands in mine feel like something inevitable. He pulls me up from my chair, close against him. His breath becomes deeper, slower. Suddenly he pushes me roughly away from him again. “It can’t happen again, Roos. This has to stop,” he almost shouts angrily. Startled, I take a step back and stumble over the chair. Just in time, he grips my arm and breaks my fall by pulling me up. Ouch, that’s going to leave a bruise.
We stand close to each other in my too-small living room. Waiting, calculating, like a pair of cowboys where one has to shoot first. I say nothing and just look at Cas. It seems like there is too little air in the room, it makes me lightheaded. He turns away from me and back again. I see something different in his eyes. Is he angry, is he crying? I can’t quite place it, but it’s not good. Cautiously, I shuffle back, but suddenly my movement triggers him. In one step, he is in front of me. He curses under his breath and then throws himself on top of me.
Crazy with desire
Cas tears my blouse open. The buttons pop joyfully around the living room. He is angry. At the situation. At me. And I have to pay for it. His tongue finds its way into my mouth and out of nowhere, he bites my lip. Deep inside me, anger mixes with desire. Everything is too wild, too rough, exactly how I want him now. This feels more like fighting than making love.
“Lie down,” he says in my ear. I move towards the couch, but I don’t get that far. He pushes me down with his body, and I feel the texture of the carpet pressing hard against my back. I wrap my legs tightly around his butt. With one hand, he pins my arms above my head. “This is the last time”,” he says while looking at me and simultaneously pushing my thong aside. He doesn’t even bother to take it off. Cas fills me in one movement. I gasp for air. He takes me hard, it’s loveless and it drives me crazy with desire. With every thrust deep inside me, I want him more than ever. Cas rubs me hard with his free hand towards a climax. I writhe beneath him as I come with intense shudders and he lets go with a deep groan.
Dazed, I stare for minutes at the light spots of the disco ball on the ceiling. I feel empty. Tears stream down my cheeks as I turn away from him. I also want it to be the last time, but at the same time, I want it to never stop. I am not in love, but every fiber of my being reacts when he is near, when I hear his voice, when he looks at me. It’s as if I am addicted. Gently, he wraps his arm around me, his chest presses against my back. And the announcement against my butt tells me that this too was not the last time.
