Extremities

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"You don't have to stay with him you know.. You can walk out." "I know." The city sounds like rushing water during the day. Cars, buses, people talking far away. A bright sunny sky and nothing but towers of steel and glass, and the sound of running water with the warm mechanical wind's smell. "Or you could do like Julie." "Who's Julie?" "She's an old friend of mine." Then she started laughing. "You never want to mess with Julie. Never.. She never gets afraid."

"She caught her husband two-timing with his secretary.. So you know what she did? It was like a switch. She turned it on.. High heels.. slinky outfits.. sex appeal. She became the biggest slut you ever saw coming up with all these ideas with him. The biggest one she told me was sitting on his face." And she drifted off, laughing, staring at the bustling city street. "Treating him like the boy in him wanted to be treated.. like this irresistable stud. A rock star. He's in a hospital now." "She hurt him?" "Up here." And she pointed to her head. "She hurt him up here.. Became power of attorney. Got all his money.. his life.. put the guy in a straightjacket." "What? Is that a true story?"

"It's not a one way street you know. You don't have to act like all the book writers tell you to. She didn't. She even told me once it was fun to see his mind slowly go.. She caught him, you see. Touched him." "Jesus." "Yah. She fucked his brains out."

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"That's enough, Julie. I can't anymore. It's hurting." "I want it, baby!" She whispered this high pitch intensity in his ear, seducing out an exhausted breath from him. "I can't." "Wait." And she pushed him over.. climbed on top pulling herself up with the bedpost. "C'mon. C'mon baby! I want it!" The beads of sweat poured off her figure like water on your cars wax job. And she spread wide her legs over his face. "C'mon!" "Jesus Christ!" He managed to cry out before she buried him. Rubbing up and down. A momentum in sink with the bed, banging it slowly back and forth up against the wall. "Oh.. OH!" She faked out orgasms.. one after the other, while her husband kissed and admired and tired and wore out underneath her..

Eventually the legs locked up and around his head, muscling and rolling him around in a glorious headlock, aching with exhaustion. And on her back the vengeful side of her mind grinned and heeved. And gave the guy what he wanted.. A fucking machine. An angst in the back of her mind that found it's way to the surface. Until he fell asleep.. A contorted cuddle. A bend, like a tired man with the back of his head against a brick wall. Only his face was stuck in her crotch. She outstretched her buttocks in the sheets to let the air breath.. "Sleep baby.. Sleep."

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"But why did he go insane if he got what he wanted?"

"Because he didn't know what he wanted. And she knew it. Julie's a very beautiful woman. Very intelligent. With some people they wonder if it's them, but she didn't. It was him. So she made him crazy." Again laughter as they were walking back to work. She stopped her friend from crossing a street while a speedy taxi cab flashed by.

"She told me once that she got a orgasm thinking about him there in the hospital. And here's the creepy part: Because she said: 'He never left my lap'." "How's that?"

"She made him so that he couldn't stop thinking about her."

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It was tight and uncomfortable.. this weird fetish leather wrapped around his head, and tied to her hips. The belt around his neck barely managed a strangle. And had a belt buckle over his adams apple. And when she squeezed her buttocks it pulled on the back of his head like a third hand. She'd laugh at the trickery. At how a flex here and there made his head move this way or that. And his sorry stare. Why did he let her do this? "My God! It's so sexy!" He thought. A once boredom. A wife interested in mundane things like bills and mortgages and pottery. Now? Naked except for some weird internet contraption around her hips. Locking his brain in place.. He kissed like he'd never kissed before. Feeling the nursery.. the victimization of her loveliness. And she just held him.. squirting. Smothering.. then flexing one way different to let the air get in. The pressure building around his neck. And the session always longer than he could stand. Julie, though fascinated, never revealed it to her poor decrepid husband beneath her. She maintained her dominant composure. And secretly hid romantic orgasms in the back of her mind.. They were her's now.

And his hands flailed wildly, grasping at the open air as she stood from the bed, and wrenched him in her leather grip.. walking. Heeving to the mirror where she sat on a stool. To powder her face.. brush her hair..

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"I could never do that. I'd feel sorry for him." "Like he felt sorry for you? What if you got pregnant? What would you do then while he had all his fun? Julie isn't someone who's going to let someone else, even her husband, put her in a vulnerable position. Not without a fight."

By the office door there was a bum on the street and raggedy clothing that stunk like hell itself. "Spare change? Spare change lady?"

"Why in the world is he two-timing on you? Have you ever looked in the mirror? You're a beautiful woman! Smart! Why's he making you a victim? It wasn't her, you see. It was him. And she showed him."

"It's too tight! It's too tight!" But Julie didn't listen. She pulled the leather straps around her hips, and his yells were muffled. Then she dragged.. like a cadavor.. his grabbing body. Clutching onto her hips giving her goosebumps, and reached for that beautiful blue evening gown. The one that cost so much. The one she looked so beautiful in. And slipped it on.

And he was gone.

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"She said that there were times when she could literally feel his head explode underneath her. For air.. for freedom.. for sympathy.. for her love. And it never came. Just day after day, week after week of domination. Until that turtle put it's head so deep in its shell it would never come out. And he went crazy.."

"Unbelievable."

"Believe it."

"Where is she now?"

"I heard she was somewhere down south, making a new life for herself." "She must feel sorry for him."

"Hahahahahaha.. I don't think so. That's not Julie."