Page 56 of Condemned By Pain
She’s dancing again.
I shut down my system and rise from my chair. Faint music filters through the closed door of my study. I step closer and open it, the sound swells in the hallway.
A song stops abruptly, then another starts. It plays for only a few seconds before changing again. Then something else begins.
I slow my steps, even though I can’t bear to wait another second to see her—happy, dancing, jumpingaround. But I won’t reveal myself until she’s completely lost in her world, or I might ruin my chance to witness this.
A song plays:“Your name’s on my lips before I can think, caught between memory and the edge of the brink...”
The music system she’s using is mine. I got it as a Christmas present when I was eight. It has all the popular songs from back then. But I never got to use it.
My father hated loud noises. And after he died, listening to music never once crossed my mind.
She sings along softly at first, then her voice grows louder.
I move around the corner and stand in a darker spot where the colorful lights don’t reach. With a folded paper held to her mouth like a microphone, she sings into it, swaying slowly.
“You don’t love me, I know that, but my heart won’t take it back. Every beat screams your name, even if it’s not the same for you...”
She’s wearing another one of my shirts—this one is black. She drops to her knees and hugs Bruno’s neck, pressing her face to his. She offers her paper mic to him, as if urging him to join in.
And because this bastard turns into a complete puppy around her, he howls while she sings:“I’m the shadow in your light, wide awake at three each night.”
She’s on her feet again, shouting along with the music, louder than the singer herself:“You don’t know how deep this runs, how it lives inside my lungs. Every heartbeat spells your name—you’re ruining me, still I want you!”
She tosses her paper mic aside and starts moving as if she has no bones in her body, as if no one is watching. She moves backward, then drops to the floor, lifts her leg, and slowly rotates it with the beat.
The shirt rides up. Revealing the black briefs underneath.
It takes a moment for my brain to catch up with what she’s wearing, and the way she’s moving. When it does, my cock jerks behind my zipper, the tension in my balls tightening with every second I keep watching.
For the first time in my life, I feel the urge to grip my dick in a tight fist and pump it hard. I want to rip this shirt off her and make her dance like this—naked. The thought alone sends a pulse of liquid surging from my shaft.
Unable to take it any longer, I turn to leave, to take care of it. But stop around the corner.
I need to watch her as much as I need to jerk off.
So I move back to my spot and watch, crossing my arms below my chest to keep my hands locked in place, to stop myself from reaching down, taking out my aching cock, and stroking it hard while I watch her.
She moves to her knees, dancing with Bruno, laughing as she twerks. She did the same thing last time, but then she’dworn a bathrobe that covered almost her entire body. Not like today, when the shirt is bunched at her waist, and I can see the roundness of her ass cheeks through the boxers that cling to her.
And the extra knowledge that they’re my fucking boxers makes everything so much worse.
She rolls on the floor, Bruno moves above her, licking her face and neck, making her laugh. That sound is never going to leave these walls—even after she does.
Only four more nights.
The arousal drains from me, replaced by an emptiness.She won’t be here after four nights. There will be no laughter. No music. Only the dark, eerie nights, like the ones before her.
I walk inside. She spots me instantly, still lying on the floor. Bruno moves away when he sees me. He’s no longer hostile toward me. But I feel hostility toward him these days. He gets what I can’t.
She sits up, legs folded to one side, those honey-colored eyes never shifting from me.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to turn my house into a circus?” I put a cold edge in my voice.
She rises, grinning.
“How many times do I have to tell you that you brought the circus home, and now you have to face the consequences?”
