Folded like a pornography poster
Warning language and content may offend some, 18+ please
Imogen’s body hurt. She hurt everywhere.
Her neck hurt from constant contact with the headboard and being too high up in the bed. Her wrists and arms hurt from being pinned and pinched together above her head.
Her legs hurt from cramps that she wasn’t allowed to tend to. Her throat hurt from gagging and choking.
But mostly her back hurt from being folded in half.
The song Apple Bottom Jeans kept playing away in her mind and she couldn’t get rid of it. It played over and over like a bad joke. Even now that he was gone from her bed and her apartment, the song played on. She used to like this song and danced to it often as she did her work cleaning the kitchen, or when she went for long walks in the park among the trees. Dancing in the park and hugging trees was one of her great pleasures, but this song was spoiling even this for her.
He had introduced this song to her, said it was his favourite. It had a very catchy toon, a danceable beat, memorable words that stuck. She liked it.
Now, was a different story.
“Imogen, oh Imogen, why have you let this guy into your bed and into your life”, she talked out loud to herself. She knew he was just using her to get himself over a breakup. To keep himself busy so he wouldn’t hurt. To suck off all her sweetness and shine. To use her up.
He slept over again. It was nice to have a sexy man in her bed, someone who wanted her, drooled over her, admired and worshiped her body. He couldn’t keep his eyes or his hands off her. Imogen felt loved, in a fake sort of way. She knew what real love felt like, and this wasn’t it. He had all the right attributes and was well endowed and very handsome, but there was no chemistry. He didn’t make her heart pound with want. She was not instantly wet with the thought or sight of him. Oh, she did get wet when he put his face between her legs and licked, but not before that and definitely not from the idea of him.
His snoring was a bother and he sweated a lot. Two flaws in an almost flawless person. Imogen loved the sex, but then she wanted to be alone and have her own space to stretch out and sleep or not sleep, read, listen to music or a podcast, write in her journal or even fondle herself for comfort. All this was denied as his hot body was pressed up against her and his heavy arm lay across her chest smothering her. He gave no space for her own, he was all over her even in his sleep. She couldn’t get any rest when he was there. He wanted to sleep over often, or as often as she would allow. He had hinted about coming back again that very day after attending to a few personal things, but Imogen put him off for another time. Also, he had started leaving a few of his personal items on top of her dresser and in other places around the apartment. Was this a sign he was marking his territory?
Imogen’s husband was gone. Vanished from her life. Was he dead? she didn’t think so as his energy was strong and he came and visited with her from time to time in the astral realms. She wanted him back. Husband come and protect me and chase these men away. There had only ever been him in her heart no matter who else was in the picture or in her bed. She was lonely for his support and caring, his counsel and direction, his interest in her actions, and even the punishment he doled out. Imogen deserved the rebukes and spankings for sure. She was a very good bad girl. Not a girl any longer in the real sense, but she liked when he called her his girl. It had been hard to surrender to the thought that he was really gone from her life and he didn’t care anymore what happened to her.
Not a lady in waiting
But surrender she must. “Let go and let god”, a friend said to her. She didn’t know about the god part. To put her life in the powers above who had her best interests at heart. How did she know that these entities had her best interests? Who were they anyway? All she knew was that it was not good to lay waiting for someone to show up and give her a little pat on the head and then disappear again. Not any way to live! Waiting was a waste of time and life.
She was no lady in waiting. After all being folded like a pornography poster was good for the circulation and for the moral. This made her smile and she stretched as she sang the words; Apple Bottom Jeans, Boots with the Fur, the whole club was looking at her….