THE MORNING AFTER

A soft kiss on my forehead just disturbed my sweet sleep. I groan as I peel my eyes lazily. They still feel heavy and dizzy, and my whole body feels so tired, and someplace down there is painful and sore. I can feel the irritating itchiness of the soreness. My! Is this how sex feels afterward?

Last night was crazy. It was a night full of lust, passion, and utter madness. We were both so wildly uncontrollable. The charm was so irresistibly strong. The urge was so strong. It couldn't have been prevented. The desire was burning us without mercy; we couldn't let it consume us. So we dove into the world of the magic of burning pleasure and sin. We swam in the ocean of the madness of sex. We tasted the mind-bogglingly juicy, sweet sin. We both willingly surrendered our bodies and practically our all to each other, and the night was like no other. It was memorable. It was terrific. It is incredibly sweet and mind-clogging.

If that was a message he wanted to put across—that he indeed is irresistible—I bow to him. I hand him the gold crown and accept the defeat. If that was the challenge he was referring to, I accept that I lost. I indeed lost, and I would lose again and again and again. If this was a game, I lost too, but despite being the loser, I have no regrets whatsoever.

I had the opportunity to ask him to leave the bathroom. I had the opportunity to say no to his seduction. He gave me that chance and choice, but I fell for it because I wanted it. I desired him that way. I wanted him just that way. Like he did. Without caring about the consequences of my actions, I initiated the first kiss under the shower last night, and before I knew it, we were all over each other, touching each other so subtly without any worries and holding nothing back. The memories from the beginning to the end of our sweet romantic adventure last night are well treasured in my heart and will always remain fresh in my brain, just as they are this minute.

I have no idea what to call this attraction between us. It could be just a mere attraction. Maybe it's just lust. Obsession is a possibility too. A fling can be put into consideration as well. Or maybe we are in the confused early stages of love, which I can't say for sure because I can't afford to fool myself. I don't know about him, but my heart desires him in a special way. I'm falling for him, honestly. I have fallen for him. My greedy God has stollen my heart. If this isn’t love, then there is no such thing as love.

I don't know what will happen from now on, but whatever direction our lives take from now on, Deep is and will always be an integral part of me. He is the only man I have been with—the man who deflowered me in the craziest but sweetest way. I will never forget him, come what may.

"Good morning, beautiful!" He greets me, kneeling beside the bed, staring at me like I am a stranger he just found lying in a jungle.

He must be finding me strange, for sure. I threw myself at him and kissed him the first time we met. At the sea. I have been kissing him since then every time he wants to kiss me, and I don't ask for any explanations. I had sex with him the very first time he made advances. He didn't even have to put in any effort because I was so ready for him, and it had to happen on my bed. He might be thinking I brought him all the way here just to have sex with him.

Crap!

I pull myself away from him, wanting to sit up, but, damn it! This sh*t hurts like hell! This isn't fair at all. After that heated, mind-blowing, sweet pleasure, comes this pain? "Shit!" I mumble between greeted teeth as Deep decides to play a concerned gentleman.

Concerned? He has always been a concerned guy. I'll give him that. He helps me sit down gently. "Sorry. Be careful." He pulls the duvet up to my chest because I am still in my birth suit. "I am sorry; that couldn't have been prevented. I tried cleaning you up, but I don't know if that helped. Does it still hurt a lot?" My mouth is agape, and my jaw is rolling somewhere on this cold tiled floor.

He did what? I take a sneak peek at my site down there under the duvet, and sure to his words, I am all clean. The sheets have been changed too. He did that? Wow! What a gentleman! Or maybe he is an expert in this. He might have learned to be this nice in his perverted line of work. My stomach rumbles at that thought, and I look at him, the smile on his face annoying me for no apparent reason. "How many times have you done this?" I snapped out of the blue.

"What?" He is the clueless angel.

"How many women have you done this to? Cleaning them up after sex and waking up just to stare at their faces?" I break it down for him, hoping nothing rings with a sense of a riddle in his ears.

His face turns pale all of a sudden. It is so rich with thousands of deep furrows that compromise its flawless skin. Why is that? Are there that many that he can't remember? I wouldn't be surprised anyway. He is a divine irresistible charm. If he is capable of having sex with someone he doesn't have any feelings for in the name of a stupid freaking fling, I think he has also had uncountable pathetic blind dates, or maybe another disgusting fling. And wow, it just so happens that I am the newest member on his list. Am I another stupid fling? Fuck it!

"I told you before, didn't I? I have had just two women in my life. That's the truth." He says.

Yeah, right! A beauty god like you, a total charm like you, a stinking filthy rich bachelor like you? Man, I am not that dumb, you know! You seem like an expert in this field. From the seduction part, to the kissing, to the touching, to the way that tool of yours drills, naah! Maybe you just don't want to look bad. I don't know why, though. I mean, you've already screwed me. You have nothing to lose after all. You should be bragging about your win, man!

"How many more do you plan on screwing?" I brat out.

Now this seems to have really pissed him off. "I don't understand what you mean or where this conversation is heading." He stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets, studying my face like he is studying for an exam. "What is wrong?" His voice is hoarse, with a tinge of brokenness. Is he hurt? Why? It was just a simple question. Unless he is guilty,

"I just want to know if I am number three out of how many more? How many more do you want to have sex with?" Honestly, my mouth is just running uncontrollably. I also don’t know why I am asking all this.

"I don't know. You tell me, Gia. How many more women do you want me to fuck, huh? Another one? Four? Ten? Oh, wait, you want to be the last one? Tell me?" He crosses his hands on his chest.

He is still in my white T-shirt, and I can't deny that it hugs him perfectly well. And about me wanting to be the last one, well, that made my heart skip a beat, but to hell with him for making fun of me like that. He has the balls to go sarcastic on me? "Screw the whole world for all I care, Deep." I say it with a downcast heart. It hurts so much. It stings! So much. If I didn't make that vow about me never crying again, I would have two streams of rivers flowing from my eyes.

If I didn't have pride and dignity, I would pour my heart out to him and let him know how his words have hurt me. I would tell him the truth: I want to be his last. I want to be his only woman. His one and only. But I can't stoop to that level and embarrass myself like that. This better remain a mistake, but a mistake I will never regret committing. If that sinful opportunity presents itself again, I am not even sure I will remember this pain. Can I do it again?

"I will go get breakfast for us. Maybe that will change your mood." He says it with a low key and turns to leave.

Another sarcasm? What breakfast? We have nothing to cook in this kitchen, and he doesn't even know the direction of the shops. How will he go there?

"I will dress up and show you the way to the shops. Better still, go to the market because we have to buy some foodstuffs. Thanks to you, I can't walk all the way there, so your baby out there will have to deal with the slippery, muddy roads again." I wrap myself up with the duvet and get out of bed, but I stagger with the first step, and Deep comes to my rescue once again, playing the gentleman.

He takes me in his arms while I hold on tight to the duvet. How ironic! I didn't feel shy or ashamed when I stood in front of him all naked last night. But now, do I? He must be mentally smirking at me.

"It sucks that you underestimate me so much. I thought you knew me, even just a little. I thought you trusted me, even just a little. But I was so wrong. Breakfast is ready already. I will go get it." He says.