Abel takes a few days off to simply be with me and so do I.
My boss, Milo isn’t happy about it but it’s not as if I’m employee of the month or anything. No, I’m not even a good waitress. In fact, I hate my job. I hate that I have to stand on my feet all day long and that people call me excuse me, instead of by my name. My uniform consists of black shorts, the exact thing I hate. My back aches by the time I go back to my apartment, with noisy, sex-maniac neighbors. Mostly, I hate the fact that I’m a failed waitress. I spill more often than not. Even though Abel tells me to quit, I won’t. I’m going to be an adult and stick it out. But it’s nice to have a few days off.
We spend every waking moment together, mostly cooped up in our room, either talking or making love.
“I do not snore, you big idiot,” I swat at his naked chest. “Besides, you talk in your sleep.”
We’re on the mattress, with him lying on his back and me resting my head on his shoulder. We’re talking about all the things we didn’t know about each other before we lived together.
“What? That’s insane.” He swats my naked butt in return.
I dig my chin in his chest, making him chuckle. “You so do.”
Smirking, he fists my hair because well, that’s just his thing. “Yeah, what do I say?”
I bite my lip, grinning. “You say how much you love my apple pies. How sorry you are for leaving all your dirty laundry on the floor and how you should kiss your wife’s feet for cleaning up after you.”
He rolls me over so I’m on my back and he’s between my thighs. “Oh, I definitely talk about that. I definitely talk about kissing my wife, making her dirty and eating her pie.”
Giggling, I squirm under him. “You’re so cheesy, Abel. The cheesiest guy ever.”
“But you still love me.”
I nod before I arch my back and invite him inside my body. “I do.”
Once our lust is sated for the time being, I tell him that in some parts of the world it’s actually okay to marry your first cousin. There’s no taboo against it.
“You shouldn’t hate them, Abel. Especially not because of me. Especially not because of our love. Promise me you won’t hate them. Promise me, Abel. Our love won’t be the reason of more hate.”
He nods. “I promise I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” I kiss his chin.
As I drift off to sleep on his naked, sweaty chest, I wonder how anyone can have a vendetta against love. I wonder why people wage wars in the name of it when all love ever asks for is peace.
Soon, our reprieve comes to an end though. Abel has to go back to work and I ask him to bring me along. Although, we’ve talked about his job and how it all works, we haven’t broached the topic about us being in front of the camera. I guess, we’re both afraid to talk about it, acknowledge the things we’re feeling. Or maybe it’s just me. I can’t help but think how un-normal it is. How unaccepted. How unconventional. And how much I’m intrigued by it all.
We’re getting ready in the bathroom to go to the warehouse. Abel’s taking a shower while I’m doing what I almost never do: putting some make-up on. But I feel like I need it today. I need to look my best. I carefully apply eyeliner and mascara, and paint my lips a darker shade of pink before curling my straight hair.
Abel pulls back the shower curtain, which I think is growing something at the bottom where it meets the water. We definitely need to step up our game in looking for an apartment.
He’s wet, his dirty blond hair slicked back, drops of water clinging to his muscles, and he’s naked. God, my husband is the sexiest man alive.
He snags a towel from the hook on the door and wraps it around his waist. “What’d you do to my hair?” Abel frowns, looking at my hair.
“Your hair?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
He picks up a long, curled strand and rubs it softly between his fingers, totally belying the tone of his voice and his glare. “Uh huh.”
How is it that he makes me smile and want to hit him, at the same time? “I styled it. What? Does it look stupid?”
He takes in my face, roving his eyes all over it. I feel self-conscious. I mean, I’m not an expert but I think I can put on some make-up. Every girl is born with that gene, right? I just need a little practice. He bends down toward me, all wet and warm.
“Abel, you’re dripping down on my dress,” I chide, looking at the wet spots on the pink fabric.
Cupping my jaw, he cranes my neck and kisses the hell out of me. He eats at my lips, nibbles at the seam and licks off my lipstick. By the time he raises his head, I’m breathing hard, clutching at his necklace. “Don’t ever put that weird color on my lips.”
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he leaves, ruining everything I put so much effort into, and making me sort of smile.
When we reach the warehouse, Abel opens the metal door but then pauses. He looks back and extends his hand toward me, palm up. The skin on his pads is rough and I know how good it feels when it scrapes against my skin. Doesn’t matter if he’s caressing my cheek or spanking my butt. His hands never fail to make me safe.
I slide my hand into his.
Together, we step into another world. Light. There’s so much light in here. it’s unnatural. Like stars go to die in this place, releasing all the light inside them that no mere mortal can handle. Abel signs me in at the door and gets me a visitor pass. Something I didn’t notice when I was here last time.
The number of beds is the same. Three. But the scenes are different. Today I take the time to study them all.
In the first bed, closest to the door, a girl is twisting in the sheets. Her dark hair feels almost one with the black fabric. Her lips are red; her skin is all flushed and dewy, breasts tipped skyward. Her hand is between her legs as she’s pleasuring herself. I expect to see a man somewhere, but in comes another woman. This one is a blonde, but thinner than the one on the bed. She has a tiny belly ring on her barely-there belly.
It makes me think of my own stomach, with all its softness and cushion. Abel loves playing with it, squeezing it, but is it really all that great? I mean, I’m nowhere near as toned and starved as these girls.
I don’t know why but it makes me feel… disappointed that I’m not as perfect or camera-ready. It makes me feel that my first attempt at make-up was a big, fat failure.
Well, what does it matter? I’m not the one doing all these things, right?
Right?
Swallowing, I look away and Abel ushers me forward. He’s letting me take my time. Not making me hurry as I absorb this otherworldly place. I don’t know why it feels that way when sex is the most basic thing in the world.
In fact, it probably must have been the very first thing in the world.
One day Adam must have come home, eating all the apples, and he must’ve said to Eve, Hey, what are we gonna do when we die? Who gets all this? Our hut and all the leafy-clothes we’ve made.
Then Eve must have said, What if we can find more two-legged people like us?
Then they must have spent hours thinking and pondering, until it occurred to Adam. Let’s grow them. We grow everything else by ourselves. Why can’t we grow people?
Only they didn’t know how to do that. But they must have been feeling things — horny things — so they went with their instincts and nine months later, voilà. They had a two-legged creature.
I clap my hand on my mouth to stop my hysterical laugh. I’ve lost it. I’ve completely lost it.
“You okay?” Abel asks me, looking down at me with such concern and love.
I can’t help myself, then. I go on my tip-toes so I can kiss him. The touch of our lips lessens the seediness of this place.
On the second bed, a woman with honey blonde hair is lying on top of a man, her back to his chest. Oh my God, she’s totally open. Like, her legs are on either side of his thighs and I can see her pussy. It’s all stretched out and so pink, with his erection inside her, and she’s grinding on him. I admit that I love the way her hips are moving, side to side, up and down, the muscles of her thighs standing taut. Her moans are loud, and yes, fake, I think. But I can’t stop watching.
A second later, another man enters the scene. He’s tall and beautiful in that made-up way that you see on TV. He walks up to the bed, all naked, his dick — big dick — in his fist, pumping up and down.
Jesus Christ, that cannot be real. His cock has to be at least fifteen inches. It’s so wide and thick and painful. I don’t even think it can stay upright. Because gravity.
Then I can’t see anything but the chest of my husband. “Stop fucking staring.”
“But did you look at his thing? I’ve never seen something like that before.” I wave my hand. “I mean, I’ve only seen yours but still. Yours is not that big.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. Before I know it, I’m flush with his body, my breasts smashed against his chest, his arms around my waist. “You wanna say that to me again?”
“Abel…” I study his face, trailing off. “Are you jealous?”
“I’m not jealous of fake things,” he grumbles.
I curl the ends of his hair on his neck, laughing. “Good. Because I don’t think that’s real. Also, I can’t even imagine how painful it would be.”
“All you need to imagine is my dick inside your pussy.”
Biting my lip, I look at him through my eyelashes. “What about you? I’m not like these girls here. My body isn’t all toned and muscular, you know.”
“Are we doing this again, Pixie?” He lowers his face until his nose is grazing mine. “You wanna know what I think about when I look at them?”
I nod.
“You. I think about you. I know this place is fucking seedy. I know it’s fake and ugly and you don’t talk about it in polite company. Hell, people don’t admit to watching porn, let alone making it. There’s lust and sin at every corner.”
He kisses my forehead. “But even then, you manage to break through. I hear a fake moan and I think about your real ones. I see a girl biting her lip to look coy, I think about my girl and how she bites her lip because it’s so good for her. Don’t you get it? You make everything good and pure. You make everything an adventure. When I’m with you, I’m not afraid of anything. I’m not afraid to be a sinner. I’m not afraid to go to hell. Because my heaven is with me.”
My nose is tingling, and I have to blink my eyes a few times. I’m speechless.
Abel chuckles. “You gonna cry on me here?”
“Maybe,” I choke out.
Abel’s shoot takes about an hour or so, and until then I stand on the sidelines. The couple he’s taking snaps of is one of the more passionate ones, I think. They are looking into each other’s eyes a lot. He’s whispering things into her ears as he throws her around on the bed.
I’m horny and restless. I want my husband to finish his work so we can go have sex.
“Hey,” a girl standing beside me greets me.
It’s Blu. So, as it turns out, aside from working here, Ethan has a side business. He makes videos out of his house and Blu was there that day to perform for him. The mirrors in his apartment give him an excellent view, he says.
“Uh, hi,” I say, embarrassed.
“It’s good to see you again.” She offers me her tiny hand peeking out of a large, fluffy bathrobe.
“Yeah.” I shake her hand. “You too.”
Her smile is soft, as she studies me. “You know, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it was my place. Besides, we’d just met and I didn’t want to start any kind of trouble.”
“It’s okay.” I will myself to not blush. “I don’t… I don’t hold you responsible or anything.”
“Did you guys get married, then?”
Smiling, I look at my husband who’s squinting behind his camera, focused on the couple. “Yeah. Last week.”
“That’s great. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“For the record, he really loves you.” She tips her chin at Abel. “I’ve worked with him a little. He talks about nothing but you.”
Oh, I know she has worked with him. I saw her video on Abel’s computer.
He’s bending down now, squatting on his heels. “Me too. He’s my everything.”
Then she grins and nudges me. “I’m so glad to meet another married couple, by the way.” She holds out her big, giant diamond. “Mine’s over there. Nick.” She motions with her chin toward a tattooed guy with a camera around his neck, talking to another tattooed guy by the windows.
For a moment, I’m surprised. Though I don’t know why that would be. Abel and I can’t be the only married people in here. But wasn’t she at Ethan’s apartment to perform? And who was that guy with her in that tape?
“Whatchu thinkin’?” she asks playfully.
“Nothing.” Then, “You’re waiting for a scene?”
“Oh no, I just did mine.”
“Really? Where?” There are only three beds in this space and I have watched all of them closely. Even the threesome. My cheeks burn at the thought.
“Back there.” She points with a finger and sure enough, there’s a hallway at the end of the loft-like space that is flanked by doors. “This is more hardcore, you know. It’s quiet, more natural back there. For the amateur feel.”
I nod like I understand.
“So you, uh, do it with your husband, then?” Damn it, I shouldn’t fish. But I can’t help it.
She’s amused. “No. He’s the one taking pictures, though.”
So many questions. But I’m not going to ask them. It’s not polite. Also, it’s none of my business.
“Right.”
She laughs. “Does that bother you? Me having sex with someone else on camera.”
I open my mouth, and then close it. “No. Of course, not.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She glances around the room. “This is really temporary for us. We’re actually moving away in a couple of months. I got into UCLA.”
“Oh wow. That’s so great. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Yeah, I’m super proud. They’ve got a great psychology program.”
I completely turn toward her. “You’re a psychology major?”
“I will be, yes.”
Okay, I’m doing it. I’m asking the question.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but…” I grimace. “Why do you do this?”
Blu simply chuckles and gives me her full attention. “Money, basically. Nick’s a photographer. He’s the one who brought me in when he got hooked up. I’d done some modeling and I thought, why not? It’s easy money and it’s also kind of liberating and thrilling. Besides, we got married really young and we didn’t have any money, so we couldn’t go to college right away. But now we can. We’re both going to UCLA and it all happened because of this.”
“Gotcha.”
She smiles like a big sister and I feel so young right now. “Can I tell you a little something? No offense but I feel like you’re sweet and a little lost.”
“Okay.” I sweep back my poorly-curled hair.
“It’s just a job. You know how in every job you find different sorts of people? You’ll find them here, too. For some it’s just a temporary gig. Like me and Nick. An easy way to make money. For some it’s an easy way to get attention, to feel the limelight, you know? So many people here wanted to be actors but it didn’t turn out that way. Many people come because they’re addicted to sex and lust, and this is just a legit way for them to make money and do what they love. Some really don’t know what else to do. This is all they know.”
She sighs. “But a handful of people come here because it’s sort of an outlet for them. Life touches all of us, right? We all start out with stars in our eyes but it’s not always starry and rosy. Shit happens and sometimes you don’t know where to go. You come here. It’s not much different than shooting up drugs or staring at the bottom of a bottle. It at least gives you some power. You can manipulate emotions, arouse people even when they don’t want to be aroused. Sometimes life takes away your power and you do things to take it right back. It’s actually pretty human.”
Nudging my shoulder, she grins again. “In fact, this is the very definition of being human. You’re hurting so you hurt the universe back somehow. You take the power in your own hands and who cares what the world thinks.”
Her words echo in my head. They echo and echo until it’s all I can hear. Not the moans, not the clicks and shouts.
I want to hurt them like they have hurt us.
My eyes go to Abel. He’s standing up straight, his camera lowered. He’s watching the couple not through the thick lens that he uses to make everything immortal, but with his own eyes. His lips are parted and even from the sidelines, I can see the dark flush on his cheeks. I can read the tightness in his frame.
He’s aroused; I am, too. And I know he’s thinking about me, just as I’m thinking about him. I’m not surprised when his eyes find me and latch on. I know my husband inside out; I can read those dark orbs.
I can read the desire in them, the hunger for power.
It speaks to my soul. My heart’s racing. I think maybe I’ve found the very thing we’ve been looking for. I’ve found something that goes beyond intimacy into the realm of revolutionary. I’ve found an outlet of our anger.
I’ve found our rebellion.