Sins of the Flesh
We lay on the floor in a pool of liquid — sweat, his cum, my cum. A slimy treat. We breathed raggedly as if we’d run a marathon, which we basically had. I had no idea of the time until I saw the afternoon shadows creeping across the loft apartment I was renting.
In the two years since we met online, we had performed every sexual act possible without being physically together. We knew each other backward — sense of humor, pet hates, philosophies, favorite friends. We often clashed — we were two big personalities. I sometimes wondered if we’d met in person would we even have liked one another.
We were both married, with lives far from each other. We weren’t sure we’d ever meet — and that had become strangely okay. We cherished what we had online and made the most of it.
Then one day I had a professional opportunity to work 20 miles from where he lived. I almost didn’t tell him — would it ruin the affair we had, which we held so dear? But of course I told him. And of course he was thrilled.
Thirty minutes before he arrived I was a mess. I had bathed and preened and done myself up.
What if he is repulsed by the real me?
What if I don’t look, feel, or smell like he thought?
I thought I might throw up I was so nervous. And then the internal elevator opened and there he was.
After two years of talking, writing, crying and laughing together — we stared at each other in silence for what seemed like hours. Then two words, which we said to each other simultaneously:
“Oh, fuck!!”
He launched at me and I at him and we embraced and kissed so deeply we could have devoured each other.
We kissed and desperately tore at each other’s clothing. Naked on the couch, his cock thrusting in and out of me, my hands grabbing his butt, my head back and him sucking at my neck. Naked on the dining table, me riding him as I gushed my finest orgasm of all time. My hands on the edge of the chair as he fucked me solidly from behind and came hard deep inside me. His mouth on my vulva, suckling, licking me into nirvana. My mouth around his cock as I felt it release its gorgeous nectar down my throat and heard his satisfied groans.
Hours had passed and still, those two words were all we had said.
After our breathing quietened we stared once again at each other. My face grinned stupidly. His was blank.
My mind played games:
What if he thought that was average?
What if he wants to leave now?
What if he’s an ax murderer?
Then one of us finally spoke.
“Stop overthinking!” he laughed.
I felt euphoric — he could see inside my mind just like he could online with thousands of miles between us. He cupped my face in his hands and landed soft kisses all over it.
When we had made love again, he whispered, “I have to tell you something.” I was still getting used to his voice in person. It was a little harsher than in videos.
“What is it, my love?” I smiled.
“I came here today to make love to you. To finally taste and feel you after all these years. To feel your warm flesh under my fingers…”
The shadows lengthened further across the room. I needed to turn on a light in my apartment. A chill ran through me, despite the heat of our bodies.
“But I also came here for a higher purpose.”
That’s when I saw the edge of the blade in the dying light. I realized he was lying on top of me, pinning me down.
“Babe, what the fuck is this?” I cried. I felt like he would burst out laughing and show me the knife was rubber. But that wasn’t happening. Instead, I saw his face contort and his grip on my arm tighten.
I didn't know this man at all.
Everything went eerily still then. Our bodies, the traffic outside, the switchblade in his hand. There was no overthinking in my head — it had never been so quiet.
“My darling, you know you’re mine. But it won’t work you living here. You will ruin my life, my marriage, my career. I can’t lead a double life unless it’s virtual. So I will take your life instead — before you take mine.”
I realized his balls were resting on my leg. Suddenly, I used all my power to knee them forcefully. He yelled in agony and contracted into a fetal position, dropping the knife. I wriggled free and grabbed it but he swiftly seized it back. Another knee in his face weakened him but not enough to drop the blade.
We tussled for it, rolling across the parquetry floor as we had been just 20 minutes before in passion. There were splatters of blood everywhere as the knife made its way through each of us in our death roll.
Then I seized my opportunity. The heel of my hand smashed up into his left eye and he covered his face with both hands in agony. I grabbed the knife and thrust it into his throat, aiming for the carotid artery. Blood gushed forth in a geyser, confirming I’d hit the mark and he would bleed to death. He writhed and tried to stop the bleeding, his eyes impeaching me to help.
I couldn't help him. I didn't even know him. My lover, my friend, my confessor existed as an online version of someone much more sinister.
So I watched in silence as the blood drained from his body, and the room slowly went pitch black.
