Barging In

5 AM Visit

I really need to fix the doorbell. And people just love the feeling of their knuckles on my wooden door, love it! Whoever was outside was very determined to catch my attention, at…I looked at the clock next to me and just gaped. 5 am in the fucking morning! Someone better be dying!

I pushed the cover furiously from my body, stood up and went barefoot to murder whoever was outside. This is so wrong on so many levels. Who has the capability to even rap on the door like that? Ugh!!

Passing Lisa’s room and noticing it empty, I shook my head and huffed with frustration. Everything! I have to do everything in this bloody house! Reaching down, I made my way to the door. Not even checking who was knocking, stupid I know, I opened the door and a tall body stormed in and made his way to my couch.

Turning my head, I gasped in surprise. What the hell is he doing here?

“Marc?”

He raised his head that was bent examining the floor, and looked straight to my soul. Damn those eyes!

“Do you mind me asking why are you here at 5 am?!” I snapped and settled in the couch facing him. I crossed my arms and waited for a vital answer.

Marc was sitting. The next second Marc had my arms in his hands, face so close to mine, seething. The second after that, I was being shaken with brutality, my head was bobbing up and down, and my chin even hit my chest.

“WHY THE FUCK WON’T YOU TELL ME?!” he roared in my face, his getting wet with sweat and rage.

At that moment, I was paralyzed. He knows.

“I…” I gulped the tightening in my throat and tried to break free from his grasp. But he wouldn’t let go. He just wouldn’t.

“WHY THE FUCK WON’T YOU TELL ME, FIONA?!” he roared again, I couldn’t imagining being so close to him again. Even having him holding me. Though, being held with so much ferocity isn’t really my thing.

“Let me go, please” I muttered.

I was then thrown to the coach, and he leaned down, caught my face between his finger and knelt on the floor in front of me. I was freaking out. I have never seen this face before. Never in my life. He could get angry and furious over Rugby, or why I wasn’t taking tea for my cramps, or why I trim my hair. But not like that, no. I don’t think this is Marc. Whoever was before me, was a broken man, with broken dreams and a broken heart. But you know what? I may be broken like him, but I’m too numb to mend. And I’m not even sorry.

“Why don't you tell me who James was? You told Sally. But you can't tell me?! Why, Fiona?!” I was sure his fingers will leave bruises on my face. He was tightening his fingers on my cheek, my skin might break any second.

“Marc, please you’re hurting me” I forced the words out , trying to grab his hands and pull them away from me.

I watched his eyes soften, and the pressure on my cheek loosened to disappear, after a second attempt of freeing myself from his grip.

“Will you please tell me so I could move on?” he whispered, running his hands over his hair with desperation.

“So you could move on?” I whispered back. I can’t believe him.

“You need to tell me, Fi. I beg you. I just…this is important”

“I’m not a whore now?”

“No one said…”

“You sister did, repeatedly. Your friends did. Everybody did.”

“You shouldn’t hear…”

“That I’m being called a whore, and my boyfriend and his family thinks so to?” I interrupted him again. Pushing up from the couch, I made my way to the stairs, I need to get out of here, seeing that he won’t get the fuck out.

“Come back here, Fiona!”

“Go fuck yourself, Marc” my voice broke, as the bile in my throat returned. Ever since that ass came back, all I do is get wet eyes, and tight throats. I’m considering moving..not that he won’t follow.

I was grabbed by my arm and whirled around. I had enough.

I raised my hand and slapped him hard on the face, with full force. I watched him stare back at me in shock, he lifted his finger to run from his cheek to his now torn lip which was gushing blood.

But then something else happened. Something I won’t really like to explain, because there’s no logic in what was going to happen.

His hand fisted in my nightgown till I was pressed to his body. He roamed his hand and grabbed my ass, squishing it in his hand. Lifting me up till I straddled his waist, he kissed me. God, did he kiss me.

He ran his tongue down my bottom lip for permission, I automatically opened up. He roamed my mouth and bit down my lip, kissing me with full passion. While we were kissing, he moved us to my room, went to my bed and laid me down. Staring at me, he examined his work on my lips and smiled wickedly.

I furiously grabbed his shirt, as he took off his pants and boxers. Wow. He grew up, man did he grow up! He was double the size from the last time we made love, thick and hard and angry. Ripping my nightgown, he attacked my nipples with full force, sucking the peeks till I withered with zeal.

“I loved that nightgown!”

“I’ll buy you a new one! Shut up and let me fuck you” he gruffly said.

Kissing his way down my body, he knelt in front of me, my back to the mattress and his face went to my pussy. Lapping on me as if he had days of dehydration, Marc went on and played with me, I was trembling with fervor. Squinting my eyes, my hands turning white while I held on to my bed sheets for dear life.

“Marc!” I climaxed gripping his head by his hair and holding it to my region.

Kissing his way up to my body with soft whispers of smacks, he held my thighs apart and positioned himself. Driving in slowly, I arched my back as I examined his beautiful face. He looked so intense, so focused, as if this was our first time together. I really liked that look.

He drove in again with force, and continued his rhythm , in and out then in and out. We continued our passionate dance, he fucked me hard and fast, till my bed banged the wall. I have some explaining to do to Mrs Stones next door…

His head slid slowly to my neck, I was scratching his back from the intensity of the pleasure I was experiencing, Marc groaned and continued till we came together. Though this time we didn’t even whisper each other’s names.

Rolling his weight off of me, Marc slid his jeans and boxers on, holding his shirt and unfolding it. He looked at me, and I flinched. Nothing, I saw nothing, not even pity. My eyes teared up as I saw that look, turning my head away, I heard his shuffle and pulling on his clothes. Standing leaning on the doorframe he called me. But I didn’t turn my head. My tears were silently sliding down my sheets wetting them with the salted water of my sadness.

“You will break, and you will tell me” and with that he pushed away from the door. When I heard the door closed behind him, I released the sob that was chocking me, I didn’t just release it, no. I invited her friend wailing with it. I gripped the sheets with my fists and I cried and cried till I was swept away with exhaustion.