Sea of Sin
Sea Of Sin

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morganalefaye - Santa Barbara Diaries
morganalefaye - Santa Barbara Diaries : Chapter 66

Chapter 66

  2010.05.15. 19:43


“Oh, you didn’t forget you had a family?” The tone in Jennifer’s voice lets David cringe. What did he expect though? “I’m really sorry, I already tried to explain we had a real meltdown over at the studio with Alan barging in.” Tired and his head still full of whirring thoughts and emotions he wants to make it to the kitchen to get himself a drink from the fridge before he decides how this day might be going on. Jen seems to be keen to help him with his decision.

“We got so close during our holiday. Why do you try to destroy it again?” “Jenny, I don’t try anything like that. It’s just that I have more responsibilities than just you and the kids. I took this day off recording. Shall we spend it fighting or do you have any better suggestions?” He takes a huge gulp of his diet coke, slamming the brushed metal door of the refridgerator. “You’re right, Dave. It’s just still…not easy for me.” She comes closer and the brunette man puts down his glass. Dragging her into a tender embrace he places soft kisses onto her hair and then onto her lips. “I love you. More than I could put into words. This will never change. I do not have to repeat all the reasons why I feel for Martin. If he’s not well the same goes for me and I have to be his back-up, his parachute – and vice versa. We’re all so bleeding complicated in our ways. I think I will never really be able to figure it all out – figure myself out. Do you understand why I’m the one I am?” Her answer is a deep, passionate kiss. “No, I wish I could – to help you with your pain and desperation sometimes. To avoid being hurt time and time again, knowing your intentions weren’t that bad in the end. I thought I knew the hard work our relationship would be bringing and I gladly accepted it. Looks we all get surprised by life again and again.” “Then let’s stop quarrelling and come to bed with me. Hold me, forgive me, love me.”

Turning around in the sheets, still smelling her sweet, female scent from making love earlier, Dave lolls and stares at the ceiling. The shower stops in the adjacent en suite bathroom and after a few minutes his wife returns, fully dressed, her hair put up in a pony tail.

“I’ll get Rosie from her ballet lesson and we drive over to mom. Shall I bring some of her famous Moussaka?”
“That would be lovely.” “You could need a few extra pounds, Dave.” “I will try. My training for the forthcoming tour will start next week anyway. Should make a proper plan concerning my diet.” “You’ll need all your energies, sweetheart – that much you’ll spin over the stage again.” She quickly kisses his mouth and then grabs her purse and leaves the bedroom. “Well, you help sucking off my energies, baby, but I do not complain.” He smirks to himself and then something else crosses his mind. He jumps out off bed and goes for his grey back pack that he usually takes with him into the studio. Mart’s diaries still rest at the bottom, covered by his black scarf. Returning to the bed, he cuddles into the blanket and opens the blue journal.

Los Angeles, November 27th, 1993

I have no idea how I landed in this sort of club. One day after our LA concert marathon. My head is still buzzing and aching like hell. The other pain in my butt – it’s just a fraction compared to the one that still clenches my heart and soul. Well, I recall my head resting in a dark, long haired guys lap. Black, shiny leather jeans – they must have dragged me to him like a magnet – as usual when I see people dressed in black leather. No, it wasn’t you, Dave. I so much wished…he didn’t really resemble you, but he looked healthy and strong – like I wish you’d look now, so much! Suppose I met him at the bar, oh now I get it, he’s a musician, too. Trent, that’s his name. He was nice, he was understanding my incoherent blabber and whining, he must have sensed my desire. So we ended in that fetish club – obviously. I let him tie me, wearing a leather harness that squeezed my balls and cock pleasantly so I was more or less permanently hard. I still can hear the ends of the chains dangling against the wall I was leaning against. Solid, metal ones I was cuffed at with both wrists, high above my head. I was easy to suss, having told him about my desires, feeling helpless and such. The tip of his riding crop was wondering along my frame. “Do you like all those dudes staring at you and your dirty, hard, long, dick?” It was then when I realized we had some audience. Some leather clad guys where surrounding us, some whispering with each other, some playing with themselves, apparently getting aroused by my state. “Do you want more? Do you want them to use your sweet, helpless little ass?” Trent’s hot voice against my ear. I could have fainted on the spot, was close to it anyway due to my intoxicated state, but the thought excited me no end. I must have growled something like a ‘yes’ cause one after the other approached me and soon I felt some intrusion, my sacred hole being filled with some hard thrusts. Trent kissed me during the act, his nimble fingers pinching my nipples. Then he gave way for another man who got down to his knees, taking my throbbing member into his warm, velvet mouth. It was nearly too much and it gives me sort of awkward feeling that I only remember shreds of the whole happening. After most of the bystanders seemed to have their fun with me my long-haired partner in crime gave me a proper whipping. No idea where he got that braided tool from. I just felt the burning sensations on my back and chest. “You’re a dirty slut, Gore! A real whore!” He was chuckling at that notion. Then he released me and I slumped down onto the floor. Soon he was next to me, pulling me into his arms to soothe the pain he inflicted on my skin. God, his velvet lips…kissing all over me. I turned even harder though I must have come a few times already. He opened the straps of the harness and when the blood came back pounding through every part of my groin the sudden pain was unbearable and I yelped. With swift movements, hands and mouth, he made me come so I could finally relax. I was so out off myself I have no idea how he got me back to the hotel. Just one thing will be burned in my memory for ever. His beautiful green eyes when I finally woke up from my alcohol induced coma – hovering over me, him wiping my forehead with a cool, wet cloth. Yes, it’s that dark, long-haired guy and I know it’s Trent. I still feel the soft touch and his lips on mine. “Let me show you how it’s really like.”, he whispered with his seductive voice. “I want you to remember this, now that you’re more or less sober again.” I thought I’d never use the term ‘to make love’ referring to a male – except you, Dave. Yet what do I know about making love to you, my prince of the darkness? My dark, fallen angel? What that man was doing to me – what WE were giving to and taking from each other – my body is still buzzing to the last synapse. When I came with tears in my eyes and he screamed my name seconds later…I have no proper words for it. No, it’s not love in that sense – it’s more than just physical need. It makes me mad that I can’t get a hold of it, put it into a term, a category. “It’s just like that, Martin. Raw, physical – yet always with the soul singing and swinging. Like New Orleans jazz.” He smiled at me and got up to take a shower. “Thank you for being brave enough to go all that way with me. One day you will be able to hold him in your arms. You’re too good to belong to a woman alone. Follow your inner call, don’t be so bloody shy all the time.” What the fuck did he know? I didn’t spill a single syllable about you, Dave! I know I even wouldn’t do it being waisted like a sailor. When he left I was still lying on the creased, sticky sheets – all happy and all confused at the same time.
David, needless to say all I yearn for is you! If you go on like this there soon will be not much left to be loved to bits. My mind cries for the Jack, for numbness. I’d prefer the pain of the whip, the burning in my ass if that could make me forget the suffering not being able to get through to you. If there is a god above he’s damn cruel or damn busy – or he just fucking ignores us! Gosh, David, I love you!


Closing the tattered book he realizes some salty drops rolling down his chin. Wiping his face he comes to a conclusion.

Még nincs hozzászólás.
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