Greg’s hospital updated his photo on the billboard. I see his face on my drive to work and smile recognizing the checked shirt I gave him for Christmas. I love him, and fighting it does not make things better.
He came out from the shower that night, naked, erect, in a hurry. His flight to California was rescheduled, and he had a couple of hours prior heading to the airport. Focused and time-conscious, he never cared about fore-play. Instant shower and instant sex – always precise, always to the point. He was quick and rough taking me from behind. My forehead was pressing against the mirror as he penetrated me. He was forceful and impatient shoving his cock inside, I was quiet and passive. I knew he needed me otherwise I would not be squeezed into his busy schedule between surgical conferences and waffles with maple syrup. I heard his usual I-love-you-babe as he was about to cum and smiled to my reflection in the mirror. He pulled out after ejaculating as usually, not caring much that I was not on a pill. I went into the kitchen to fix him a sandwich. He started getting dressed, his driver was waiting outside. The intimacy was quick and quiet.
He left, and I went into the bedroom with a fiber cloth and vinegar to clean the mirror from the forehead and palm traces.
Our relations were silent, physical, and weird. His mind was blank, his way of processing reality was very concrete and straightforward. – I need proof Vixen, what is it evidenced by? – his approach to sex and life was similar to his working on research studies. Black and white, precise and fact-based. No shades, no excuses, no remorse, nothing.
– You are a scholar yourself, you should understand, Vixen
I kept shaking my head. Working on my dissertation was just a way to buy a boat since Greg was too greedy to pay my yacht club membership. I did my best not to see this world through the prism of peer-reviewed articles. He did, combining dead book-knowledge with removing cancer from human bodies. Always stressed and always quiet.
I fell for him, for his ability to focus, to use me with his cock, and to discard me when I was not needed.
–Would you love him if he were attentive and respectful? – Heather was curious.
– I do not think so.
– It is scary my dear, you seem to be into guys who cause you pain.
Heather was right, I was a sub, and there was not much that I could do about it.