Hot Mess

What was it about the love of, or the lack of love from a man that turned the strongest woman into a hot mess?

Cleo’s brain was on fire since Cadmus told her he wanted to be back with his long abandoned ex.

Did you treat her like you treated me? she texted like a slur against his character. She saw the bubbles on her phone like an effervescent drink rising to the surface as he replied to her.

I never abandoned you Cleo, I NEVER abandoned you! he texted back in a stream of defensiveness. And she had to admit that he had never abandoned her in the sense he had always been there for her even when they were not together. He was with her now as he was with another woman and she threw her phone to the side. Lying on her side in the Parisian hotel that was the one he was staying at—he paid for it, he wanted her to meet Mathilde.

Her name was Mathilde, and he showed her a picture he snuck of her while she was on her side like she was now. Her face was covered with her long, dark hair and you could not really see her face but everything else indicated that she was gorgeous and that she had Cadmus. The photo he took was obviously after an intimate moment.

Isn’t she going to mind? Isn’t she going to wonder why she has to meet me? she texted, biting her lower lip.

You are my best friend…he reply texted.

Is that what they call it these days?

They had had sex a couple of times in the last few months, and now she was just a friend? Cleo flung her phone across the room, and cried. She was a fetal-positioned mess on the edge of the bed…

…and at the edge of her sanity.

 

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Naked and Shivering

Naked and shivering, the sweat from both of their bodies cooled on hers after…Mathilde pulled her hair to one side, it was stuck to her face and below her shoulder. She looked at him, and then around at his hotel room. 

That was another thing about him, she never expected that he would not rise to the top of his field. He was always very focused, and that additionally made her feel silly around him because she was going to school too but she was much more into the fun part of the college experience. 

He even told her that she was not serious, like she was a bit of fluff.

But he had been serious about her in the moments past. He wanted her on top because he wanted to see her body move, and he touched every part that he wanted to see…

…move.

He made her feel like a goddess—like he never had when she was younger. His hands on her breasts, her hips and thighs. She moved so that she would drive him mad because she was very good at sex and she knew how to do that.

He looked wrecked beneath her, and it made her smile. She wished that she could be evolved and have sex with him and let him go. But everything old was brought up now that they had renewed their intimacy.

Mathilde turned on her side, and she felt him follow her as she did. Her smile tasted like tears because she did not know what she wanted.

Almost sounding like he was talking to himself, Cadmus said,

“I used to be in love with a girl you remind me of…”

“Tell me about her?” she said hoping she did not sound too interested. She had been playing it so cool all along.

“She was beautiful, and I wasted it all.”

Her bottom lip saltier with the tears now, Mathilde closed her eyes.

 

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image via House of Eclipse

Like Something From The Twenties

Cadmus could not keep his eyes off of her…

She reminded him so much of Fianna, that he was not able to see anything but Fianna so many years ago.

He saw her smiling at him in that adoring way that she did.

He felt her arms and legs and hair about him and the way that she would wrap herself about him. 

He remembered tensing at her touch—he was not ready to be loved like that. Even now after therapy, and after Cleo he was not sure he was ready.

There was a 1920s photo above the bar, Cadmus let his eyes linger there at its reflection of the Fianna lookalike. Her slender neck was not unlike the neck of the photo of the woman above the bar.

“Do you want another drink?” he asked, and he knew she didn’t even before she answered.

She shook her head.

He placed his hand on her knee, and she looked down at his hand.

“What do you really want to ask me if I want?” she said looking into his eyes, and he swallowed roughly.

He circled his finger around her thigh like he was a lost navigator. They leaned in closer together, as his finger wandered on her thigh. He could hear their breath mingle. It was so intimate, like he never even allowed himself to be with Fianna.

Fianna had wanted this so much—his attention and closeness. It was so hard for him to give it to her then, but it was so easy for him to give it to this stranger.

He looked up at the photo again to distract himself.

“I am waiting for your answer,” she said.

He looked into her eyes, and thought out his answer. Then looked back down at her thigh. This moment felt like something from the Twenties that he wanted to preserve. That intimacy that did not have to escalate like in modern times.

But he wanted her now—

 

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Blue

Eliza was startled when she saw Cleo in her office. She was walking by the other woman’s office when she saw Cleo in a blue dress, looking deeper blue than the deep blue dress she was wearing.

“Cleo?” Eliza walked in, and Cleo wiped her face and nose with the back of her hand. It was clear that she wanted to hide her private moment, but it was not private anymore. “Are you okay?” 

Cleo shook her head.

“Well I am a mess, so obviously not! If I told you yes you would know that is not true.” Cleo sniffed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Eliza…” Cleo looked at Eliza, and swallowed.

“Yes?”

“You are my friend as well as Oscar’s, but if I tell you this…” Cleo looked at her and her eyes shimmered with tears about to spill. “If I tell you this can it be between us?”

“I would never come between you and Oscar, that is not my business.”

“No,” Cleo shook her head. “I know you would not. My ex…”

Eliza froze, did Cleo know she knew about her ex? Composing herself, she nodded.

“He came back into my life, and he — we — are codependent to put it mildly. He has never left my life, and when he came back…” Eliza watched her like a train wreck, Cleo continued. “He made it very confusing for me. He wanted to get back together, I did not know what I wanted. I’ve been torn, and he went to Paris on business and met a woman who reminded him of his ex, a woman he dated years ago and treated badly. He wants penance with this woman, they have been together and he wants to see where things go…”

Cleo burst into tears, and Eliza moved to close the door behind her.

“He always does this to me Eliza, when am I going to learn to stay away. I can’t!”

Eliza drew Cleo close to her, tears like sweat covered her, and Eliza remembered what it was like to be jealous of another woman.

“Oscar and I have an open relationship,” Cleo started. “But I wanted to know if Cadmus wanted to be with just me…”

“Shhhhh,” Eliza soothed, holding a trembling Cleo to her chest like she was sure she would one day have to hold her own daughter because of heartbreak…

 

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picasso via wikipedia

Justify My Love

Mathilde watched him look right through her, and she was shaken a bit because she never imagined that he would react to her like that. She never imagined that he would be so blase about seeing her, they had been together for a little while…it had not seemed insignificant to her.

Then she remembered that she was incognito, and looked nothing like she had looked when he knew her. Her grip on the stem of her wine glass loosened a bit with that thought, and she looked at the bartender with a small smile. He had been looking at her since she had arrived breathlessly at his bar, looking like she had been attacked.

No one would have guessed that quite the reverse had happened, and that she had been ignored by the man who had been the love of her life she guessed they would call it. No one had made Mathilde feel like he had. Her entire body was on fire from the memory of him, and from anticipation.

When she turned on the stool, there he was.

His forehead crinkled with thought, as he looked down at his phone. His suit looked expensive and tailored, and he looked nothing less than the man that she had always wanted to straddle his thighs facing him and …

His forehead smoothed as he noticed her looking at him. A smile lifted his lips, and he gestured to her empty glass.

“What were you drinking?” he asked.

That was the hook—his approach. His confidence, his invitation that no one could resist.

Mathilde stared at him until her eyes watered.

“The house red,” she replied, licking her bottom lip and she bit it to not smile when his eyes followed her tongue.

She had a hook too.

He lifted his chin at the bartender and her glass was refilled. The bartender had a dark look on his face as he realized their flirtation was over.

“I saw you outside, and I am not the kind of man who stops every pretty lady I see but I almost stopped for you. And no here you are…”


Did he not see anything in her eyes, was there nothing about her gestures that reminded him of her before? Something like deja vu?

“So now what?” she asked like the line in “Justify My Love” by Madonna, and took a sip of her wine without ever taking her piercing gaze off of him even for a second.

 

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justify my love still via imdb

Surrounded

Eliza wrapped her arms about Cleo as soon as she sat down at the table, and then looked away from her. She could tell even from her periphery view of Cleo, that she knew her goose was cooked. There was nothing for her to say, but she knew that Cleo knew…

All Eliza could see when she had her arms about the other woman was the way that Cleo had hugged Cadmus. The way her arms dangled about his upper body and the way that she pressed her body to his with instinct, not intention. Her emotions for him were so clear, and Eliza was confused because she had thought that Cleo was completely in love with Oscar.

Oscar was sitting next to Cleo, and looked happy. But his eyes were on her as well, and Eliza hid her emotions for him as well as she possibly could. There was so much history between her and Oscar at this point, that they spoke volumes without a word or even a look.

Maybe that was the same thing that was between Cleo and Cadmus, because as she settled next to Oscar Cleo looked at ease and infatuated. Her body again moving instinctually.

Relationships were so complicated, what had she witnessed between Cleo and Cadmus? Now even though Cleo looked at her wearily, Eliza made as if she was oblivious to anything.

Eliza nearly choked on her wine, as Cleo’s phone was dressed with Cadmus’ name, and Cleo grabbed her phone to speak into it.

In French.

Oscar looked unconcerned, Eliza smiled at him.

Cleo looked between them even as she continued her conversation in rapid French.

“Ciao, ciao,” she said and leaned back into Oscar. “It was Cadmus.”

“I figured,” Oscar smiled, and took her hand to kiss it.

Cleo’s weary eyes remained on her, and Eliza was happy to be swept up in the embrace of her husband. His hug felt like a security blanket surrounding her with his arrival.

Hugs all around again, and Eliza mused at the dramatic turn her life had suddenly taken.

 

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Hallucination

With the current state of things and the regular trajectory of Mathilde, it would be easy for me to marry both for this week’s Masturbation Monday. But I am not going to do that.

There was once a comment about Anais Nin that she was living through WWII, and there was no mention of it in her journal. She was being criticized for not speaking of the war in her journals.

 

es·cap·ism

/əˈskāpˌizəm/

noun

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy.

 

Maybe Anais’ diary was a refuge from what she was living day to day—it is not fair to judge her for that. I certainly do not, and I have always understood escapism—now more than ever. So this week, I will escape into my own fiction and for those of you who can appreciate that or desire it this is especially for you…

 

Mathilde got off on her stop.

Literally.

The rocking of the metro, and the thoughts in her head made her feel such a heaviness between her legs that the quick movement to exit the train made her feel the release that was needed there.

She was ashamed, as she placed her hand over her mouth.

She had been thinking of him.

The man who had made her into what she was, who had made her never want to be vulnerable. Heavy eyes along with the heaviness between her legs, and she remembered how she had ached for him.

How she wanted anything that he would do to her.

Anything.

When he was rough, when he was super tender with her she wanted it all. She wanted it when he did not want it sometimes, and she couldn’t help herself. Surrounding him like a venomous snake so that he had to surrender to her, Mathilde would wrap her arms and legs about him and kiss his neck. 

He would fuck her hard then, and that was what she wanted. But she did not realize that it was a give her what the fuck she wants fuck so she will leave you alone. It was years before she realized it was not that she was too much for him, but that he did not love her the way she loved him. A man who loved her would not have had the same experience with her, and maybe she wouldn’t have felt so desperate with another man.

Deep inside she probably knew that she was fighting a losing game like the Amy Winehouse song with him. But the way he made her feel had been sublime, and she had craved it.

She still craved it sometimes.

When she walked down the street, she thought she was hallucinating. Here in Paris?

Him…

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Perseverance

Eliza tightened the scarf about her head, and looked over at Cleo and Cadmus. There was a smug smile on her face, because she saw them and she knew that they did not see her. It felt like a soap opera but it was her real life, and she was fine with that.

There had been a long time of the playing field being uneven, but finally now Eliza knew something that she could use for her leverage. Cleo always had a look on her face like she knew something about her, she had been in the hallway after she and Oscar had made love at Bibi’s birthday party but she did not know anything. Eliza’s life would not be a soap opera—that was not what she wanted her life to be. 

It felt like voyeurism to look at the two of them together. 

When the private investigator showed her the pictures of lovemaking between Cleo and Cadmus it felt very illicit. Seeing the uninhibited expression of pleasure on Cleo’s face—the deep-seated need that she had for Cadmus smeared all over her with the man let Eliza know that she was deeply in love with him.

What was she doing with Oscar then? Did Cleo love him at all, or was he a rebound? 

Eliza could not imagine being with any man she was not deeply in love with. It was with deep perseverance that she maintained her relationships. Her marriage had not been an easy road, but she loved Rafe and Bibi and her family structure.

Oscar included.

What was Cleo doing? Her hand rested between Cadmus’ thighs, and it was clear that she was either going to give him a hand job or something even more daring in the intimate cafe. She probably thought no one was paying attention.

Eliza was.

Tightening her scarf some more, Eliza got up from her chair as Cleo started to unzip Cadmus’ pants and Eliza saw a flesh-colored flash that she looked quickly away from. 

She had gotten what she wanted and was ready for Cleo to make the next move.    

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Submerged

Mathilde sat on the metro—she could still feel him between her legs. She could still feel him moving there, the heat of him outside and inside her and she pressed her thighs together from the memory.

Biting her lip and clutching her bag, Mathilde realized that she had come all the way to Paris to be alone for the first time in her life and she did not really want to be alone. She wanted to be close to someone, she just wanted it to work this time.

Every time she wanted it to work, but somehow it never worked the way that she wanted it to. Not that she had not been with people and loved them, but it was never quite what she wanted…

Phenomenal twosomes, threesomes and foursomes had filled her—literally—but it was never quite what she wanted. On the metro now, she realized that maybe she was not built for real intimacy. What she had just experienced in the bedrooms of two men she barely knew, let her know that she was always ready for her body to be submerged in whatever—but real love and intimacy were something she could only scratch at the surface of.

Her body still ruminated with the pleasure she had submerged herself in—a man who seemed to know her intuitively. There was something base and animal about the way that he knew her, while he was inside of her it felt like he was entering more of her than just her body. It felt like he was penetrating deeper, to something that she was not able to stop him from searching for within herself.

She felt like he awakened something in her that she had not known was there. And now hands on her thighs, she tried to settle herself from the pleasure and the torture of it that she could still feel throughout her body and soul.

 

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Spellbound II

Cleo hated herself for what she had done, but she could not help but embrace herself beside Cadmus.

In his bed.

It felt like a place that she belonged, and that she had forsaken. He was asleep—he had rolled off her and curled into fetal position still clutching her. He played with her breasts, and explored the contours of her curves.

He always made her feel like a woman.

At the cafe, when she went to meet him she had not imagined that she was going to sleep with him. But after a few glasses of wine, and looking in his eyes it was like she was spellbound. She felt dazed and overwhelmed like a woman on the cover of an old Spicy Mystery.

Her body however was not confused, and she wanted Cadmus even as she knew it was wrong. That he could not give her what she wanted now because he was fast asleep. Her eyes closed, but fluttered violently because she wanted him inside of her. When he was inside of her she was not lost. She held him close, probably bruising his butt from the desperate way she clutched it and mewled underneath him not being satisfied no matter how much he gave her.

She wanted more.

That was why they were not together anymore, because it did not seem that he had more to give her than this. Lovemaking, followed by wakeful sleep as he clutched her breasts like a security blanket he did not want to let go.

Cleo knew she would have bruises from him later, and she was not sad about it. She wanted the residue of their love—it was all she had ever wanted.

Cadmus squeezed her breasts more, and she wondered what he was dreaming.

If she was in them.

Panic clawed at her as she became desperate for him again, but now he squeezed her breasts and he was awake—

She wanted what he wanted.

 

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