The sculptor; part 18

I'm in my room. In the other town. The big city with the pretentious academy.

After staying another night at Sas's her place I went back. Sas and Martin brought me to the station.

Hugged me warmly and waved till they couldn’t see me anymore.

I stare out of the window. The landscape a blur. A blur, a blur, a blur, like my memory of the day before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I must have fallen into a deep sleep after Eddie and I made love on Sas her bed, because when I woke up I was alone. Eddie had left. No trace of him except for a piece of paper with some scribbling on it and, right in the middle, my panties - stuck upon the wall with a pushpin.

It said.

Nymph of the heavenly orgasm,

Your boyfriend came to bring back your panties.
Guess he's not a trophy hunter.

I said you weren't around.

Ed.

I sank to my knees and crumpled up the note together with the piece of fabric.
After a while I got up and went into the shower. The warm water streaming over my body reminded me of Eddie's embrace. For a moment I welcomed that feeling, but I turned the hot tab off and endured the icy cold to harden myself against the knowledge that he is a male Atalanta - sworn to the god of fuckery.

Like she said she would be Sas came home just after 5 o'clock. I told her everything that had happened

"Yikes." She pulled a face.

"Don't worry. I changed the sheets."

"That's not the point, silly. It's just. I don't see how this will come to any good. That Rave though...what an ass. You think he knew the sculptor was with you?"

"I'm not sure. What if. He has no claims on me."

"And Eddie does?"

I must have looked like a pathetic lost puppy, because Sas jumped up to hug me.

"Ah, little Hálwen. The mess you're in."

Sas and I baked cupcakes. Ate them all while we drank tea and smoked pot and after that we went to a club.

Martin was there already. He enjoyed my story. Well, at least he made me see things in perspective. I'm young, talented and apparently hot enough to have two lovers, even though one of them is rather erratic and halfhearted.

And I have two great friends.

We were sitting in a quiet corner and eating a curry and drinking beer when Eddie came in.

As always he was accompanied by a smashing looking girl. Oh. I cringed inside. Martin saw it and he took my hand and stroked my face. He pulled me to him.

"Don't let him get to you. He's a slut. Forget him."

"You'll make new friends at the other academy. You'll see. There most be hot guys over there as well. In fact: I think I'll come with you." Sas said.

"Hot guys! Yes please!" Martin squeaked.

"No you can't. You're taken." Sas reprimanded him.

"Adrian won't mind." Martin sulked.

"Yes, he will. Look at the sorry state I'm in." I reminded him.

"Ah little one, you'll get over this bitch soon enough."

I sighed. Looked at Eddie, a few tables away, who was looking at me while he gulped his beer and had his arm around the girl's shoulder.

"Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." I pushed my chair back.

I felt tears welling in my eyes. Clutching the banisters I went down the stairs to the restroom.

"Don't cry, don't cry." I told myself in front of a mirror, trying to push away the tears with my fists.

Then I felt his presence. He stroked a lock of hair behind my ear. Whispered my name against the delicate skin of my throat while his hand found its way under my shirt, caressing my naked tummy.

I said nothing. Just leaned back against his lean, warm body and let escape a shivering sigh.

I looked through my fingers at the reflection of him standing behind me. Touching me. Being pinned by his mesmerizing eyes. Oh god, that face, that beautiful face. His image created a vacuum in which time seemed to float and so did my feelings, my lust, my love.

His warmth behind me. His breathing. His hands working on my body, sculpting me, making me into that girl that arose each time when he was around.

And then a no emerged from deep inside the well of my being. Was it my brain that called?

"No."

He seemed to freeze.

I shook of his hands.

I shook of my arousal.

And I walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

And since I walked away the image of me and him keeps following me. Expanding into fantasies. Fantasies of love making in that bathroom. Him pushing me against the sink. Me making his legs tremble. Words, sighs, moans.
Lovemaking.

Why did I say no...

I get up and walk to the wall I use as an easel. I take out the big dry brush that still has some pigment on it and start pushing, pulling, stroking the canvas with it. I squeeze a bit of paint from a tube of sepia, dip a small paintbrush in it and carefully add detail. Smear some paint on my fingertips and caress the image into likeliness.

Then I take a few steps back.

It's him. The sculptor.

I take a cloth and wipe my hands clean, staring at the portrait I made.

"I love you." I tell it.

Then the doorbell rings.

The sculptor; part 17

I know I turn white as a sheet; a hand grabs my heart and squeezes real tight. I feel guilty. But why? I did nothing wrong. Not by his standards anyway.

I bent my head to the ground, avert my eyes.
Rave pulls me closer. Protective? Possessive?
He strokes my hair back and gives me a kiss on my temple.

Eddie throws the cigarette stub away and crushes it under his shoe. He takes a step forward, opens his mouth to say something, but seems to change his mind when Rave and I walk by.

We are in the main street and I know when I see the reflections in the shop windows that he is following us. I look behind me and his gaze is straight at me. He doesn't even hide the fact he is tailing us. There's a smirk on his face. Like a wicked faun.

At Sas's house Rave kisses me goodbye and I go inside.
"Will I see you later?" He asks before I close the door.
I look over his shoulder where I can see Eddie standing, who pretends to be interested in something in a display window now.

"Maybe. I might go back to my place, though."

"I wish you'd stay here." He says. Leaning in to kiss me again.

"Goodbye, Rave. Thank you." And I shut the door.

Sas left a message for me on the kitchen table.

"Hey Dwarf,

Guess you went to fix the loose ends and got tangled in the thread?
So you.

Hope he hasn't devoured you.
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly

Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly

Keep in touch.

I'll back around 5.

Sas"

(and she drew a little spider's web.)

Yep. I got tangled all right.

I walk to the window and see him; still standing in front of the shop. Brooding. His arms crossed.

He looks up, sees me. Strokes his hair out of his face, with that typical gesture; two hands behind his ears, leaves them to rest in his neck. I can see his chest moving - his breathing, deep, even.

His brow is furrowed, but he doesn't look angry. More pensive and sad.

I lean with my forehead and hands against the cool glass, with fingers spread.

We never lose eye contact. Not even when people pass, on foot, on bikes. Some look at him. Try to seek contact. But he does not respond. Just looks up. At me.

I'm not sure what comes over me. I'm never like this. Only with him, it seems.

Slowly I take off my jacket. Drop it to the floor. My heart hammers in my ears. I pluck the tee I'm wearing, fidget, fumble, pull as if in agony and then I take it off. Throw it in some corner.

I'm in my bra, at the window, stare at him while I lower the straps - one by one, I cup my breasts, gently squeeze my nipples. Stroke my belly, further down, up to my face, ball my fists - open them and press my palms against the window again.

His facial expression is one of unbelief. His mouth slightly open.

I bent forward and dampen the glass with my breath. Then I draw a question mark on it. Circle that a couple of times.

Eddie almost sprints to the front door and I run down the stairs to open it.

Our bodies collide; our hungry mouths find each other. We barely avoid tumbling to the floor. On our knees we touch, grope, caress, pull clothes, bite, make funny little puppy noises.

Eddie's arm finds it's way around my waist and he pushes me backward till I lie on the ground, pulling me close against his body.

A shiver seems to go through his body when I wrap my legs around him and push his hips closer to me with both hands, kneading his butt.

"Please make love to me, Eddie." I sigh.

He puts his hands on my shoulders and with his forehead against mine, looks me in the eyes directly - I only see the vague blur of his ocean coloured irises and the frame of the thick lashes - when he whispers:

"Oh yes baby, I need this...this...you..."

Suddenly he grabs me under my arms and, like I am a puppet, lifts me up on the second stair tread. Pushing me down to make me sit.
His face is serious when he slides off the pants I'm wearing. He looks at my face, at his hands, peeling me off the garment - surprized when he sees I'm not wearing panties, and then he pushes my legs apart and buries his face in my lap. Whispering my name in my hot middle, castings spells - making me gasp and grab his hair as he kisses and sucks and licks me.

"E-eddie, I'm..." I heave, feeling like I'm about to implode.

"Shhh." He lifts me up. Kisses me. I taste myself on his lips.

"Where?" He asks with a hoarse voice.

Upstairs he drops me on Sas's bed (I'm sure she won't mind) and jumps next to me.

"Put your arms above your head." He breathes.

I do as he says. Stretch out, like a cat. Take hold of a bed post.

He strokes my naked body with his warm calloused sculptor's hands. The inside of my legs, my sides, pushes my breasts up. His palms slightly touch my nipples, warm them for a while but then he teases them with his thumbs. His lips graze the sensitive buds. He smiles, breathes out audibly. He continues to caresses my skin with his lips, his teeth, and tongue. Making me squirm, burn.

Then this magnificent creature takes of his clothes and pulls me against him.

Urgently he spreads my legs and leads his velvet rod - oh I stroke it, he's so warm and pulsing- pushes it, and yes; glides into me. His lips against my throat. His hand in the nape of my neck, his fingers clawing in my hair while he thrusts. Making inarticulate sounds with his mesmerizing voice.

We move together rhythmically and I can feel him deep inside me.  Suddenly he pulls out.  I watch as he finishes himself off with one hand, and with the other hand moves his fingers inside and outside of me. He throws his head back. And begins to moan.  Then he lets out a deep guttural growl that seems to bounce off the ceiling and into my brain.  At the moment his warm fluid splashed across my belly, I reach my peak - thanks to his nimble fingers - while he watches me intently.

He bents over to me. His hair tickles my face. With one finger he caresses me, while I still shiver, from my centre to my breast bone - like a whisper, to my throat, lingers on my lips - to my nose bridge  - rests at my forehead. Draws small circles there.

His mouth, his upper lip touches mine - once and a while kissing me, gliding with his tongue over my lips - while he speaks to me.

"Oh sweet love. Your orgasm is so wonderful to see. So intense. I..."

Suddenly he sits up and turns his back to me.

His hands clenched into fists. Tense.

I hate the sudden cold between us.

"Was I...uh....did I do something wrong?" I ask with trembling lips.

He bends forward, with his head in his hands.

"You are perfect. You are an angel.' Groans.

" It's me...I'm so fucking jea..." He shudders.

"My lover. Don't you know? Don't you know you..." I hesitate.

"...have my heart?" I stretch my hand, grab his arm and pull him back to me.

He lies with his head on my chest. I stroke his soft, beautiful hair. Trace his jawline, his ear, his pink lips with my finger. Stroke his goatee, the slight valley of his chin.
Softly I hum. "...with you...with you..."

"Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you do that?" I stroke with my hand over my sticky belly.

"Can't you guess?" He grimaces. " I branded you with my scent. So that geek Rave will know that you belong to me."

"You’re so primitive." I giggle.

"I know." He kisses me softly and pulls me closer.

The sculptor; part 16

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