Page 10 of Her Gluttony

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Eventually, she moans and rolls her hips.

I feel nothing.

Not even anger.

There is only coldness in me.

Coldness like death.

I just repeat what I do.

Lick.

Suck.

Fuck.

And then, she comes.

She squirts all over my face and finally lets go of me.

The moment she does, I get up like a robot.

I take my coat.

Walk outside.

And the moment I am on the sidewalk, I vomit.

The smell of her. It is the most disgusting thing I have ever smelled.

I wipe the fluid from my face and the vomit from my lips. I get into my car and drive on autopilot. When I reach my garage, my hands shake like crazy.

I get up into my studio, slip without undressing into the shower, and let the water run over me for what could be hours. I scrub myself five times, all over, before I can get out of the dress and shoes. Then I scrub myself again until my skin is red and peels.

I get out of the shower, brush my teeth several times, throw the brush head away, and get a new one from the drawer to brush again.

When I am done, I finally smell like myself again.

I lean on the vanity top. My fingertips dig painfully into the surface as I stare at myself in the mirror.

My hands tremble.

A feeling tries to crawl up on me. A feeling of being a failure. A worthless?—

“No!” I shout at myself to stop the feeling, the thought. “Stop it right there. You don’t go there.”

So I don’t.

I swallow down.

The anger in my chest and the hollow sensation in my stomach disappear.

I draw back my shoulders.

My head twitches briefly.

And I am back to my baseline of cold and calculating.

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