Stalker
Standing in the entrance of the bathroom, I took in the sight of our woman pleasuring herself. She didn’t look at us. And the bite in her tone when she asked us to leave so she could take care of herself hit me like a slap.
We knew she was upset when she demanded to be let out of bed.
When she went to the bathroom, and the shower came on, we thought she’d be back, and we’d talk about it.
God knows, we hadn’t turned her down due to disinterest. Predator and I were desperate to be with her.
But we were scared of causing her pain or messing up her wound.
Even though she said Zara had given the green light, the fear remained.
However, we’d turned off the television and were sitting there in silence, waiting for her to return.
At first, I thought I imagined what I heard—a soft whimper.
When a moan followed not long afterward, both Predator and I heard that, so we got up and went to investigate.
Surely, it wasn’t what it sounded like it was.
It was hot to see her all wet with her head thrown back, her hand between her legs. Her nipples were tight. My body reacted. However, to have her ask us to leave so she could take care of herself had stunned me. And there was an undertone of hurt in her accusation that we rebuffed her.
Predator elbowed me. When I looked over at him, he was shoving down his pants.
He appeared determined. I took the hint and pushed mine down.
Since that was all we had on, mere seconds, and we were naked.
Without saying a word, we went to the shower.
He yanked the door open. I slid in first. He closed the door silently behind him.
Daya still had her eyes closed. Since her back was to us, we hadn’t seen her face. As I wrapped my arms around her from the side, I saw her face was screwed up as if she were in pain. She jerked, gasped, and her eyelids flew open at my touch. She went into struggle mode.
“Get out! Let go of me,” she shouted.
Predator moved until he could hug her from the opposite side. An elbow caught me below my diaphragm. Air rushed out of me.
“Daya, stop it!” I yelled.
“Calm down!” Predator hollered.
“I said to get out. I don’t want or need you in here.”
Her voice sounded slightly strained, and then I stiffened. There was the ever-slightest sob at the end of her words. Predator gave me a wild-eyed look.
“Melyster, talk to us. What’s wrong? Are you crying?” I asked. Her face was wet, so it was hard to tell if any of it was from tears. Right on the heels of my questions was Predator.
“Dolcezza, don’t cry. Please. What did we do? Surely, tears aren’t due to us not having sex with you.”
To our mutual astonishment, Daya burst out sobbing. As she hung her head and let the tears flow, she stopped trying to get away. We pressed closer, trying to soothe her with our touch. We murmured words of comfort and love to her. It took her several minutes to stop.
“Daya, baby, please, you’re killing us. Tell us why you’re so upset and crying. We only wanted to protect you,” Predator told her softly.
She shook her head and wouldn’t raise her head. I gripped her jaw and forced her to raise it. She tried to shake my hand loose, but she couldn’t. Her eyes were red. And she had the saddest expression. She avoided my eyes.
“Daya, look at us. We can’t fix it if we don’t know what’s wrong,” I reminded her.
She kept quiet. Without another word, I grabbed the sprayer and hosed her body all over, even between her legs, to ensure all the soap was gone.
When I was sure of it, I turned off the water.
Predator, guessing what I was up to, got out while I rinsed her off.
He dried himself and stood there, holding a clean towel for her.
I gently pushed her out of the enclosure into his arms.
Hopping out, I took another towel, patted at my skin, then put it around my waist, from the stack by the shower door.
Then, I used another one to dry her hair.
Daya remained listlessly standing there.
Her eyes were dull. My heart pounded. Surely to God, we hadn’t fucked up that badly.
She wouldn’t leave us over a silly misunderstanding. Would she?
For Predator and me, it was silly. Based on how Daya was acting, it was far more serious than we knew.
After she was dried, I hastily ran mine over my body again.
I led her out to the bed. Predator paused to grab her hairbrush and an elastic for her hair.
I pushed her down on the bed and sat next to her, holding her hand.
It hung limply in my hold. Predator got on the mattress and sat behind her with his legs on either side of her hips.
“Let me get your hair smoothed out. Do you need anything sprayed in it?” He asked.
A faint shake was all he got. As he worked, I tried to engage her in conversation.
Daya gave one-word answers or said nothing.
Predator felt panicked, like I did. I saw it.
When he was finished, including braiding her hair, he set the brush aside.
He moved to his side of the bed. I got up and nudged her to the middle.
She moved but seemed withdrawn. Once we had her between us, I couldn’t stay quiet any longer.
“Daya, you’ve got to tell us what we did that has you so upset. Was refusing to have sex due to our worry that upsetting? It was only because we didn’t want to hurt you. You know we desire you.”
“Riggs is right, we desire you so much, and it’s hell to hold back, but we’re not jeopardizing your health,” Predator added.
“Is that really what this was about? I told you Zara said it was fine. From my end, it seems like you’re controlling me, punishing me, for having the audacity to demand what I want,” came her low mumble.
“Controlling you?” I asked sharply.
“Punishing you? Daya, how can you say that? We offered to pleasure you, to make you feel good,” Predator protested.
“We were being cautious,” I stated.
There was no response. She stared at her hands. She wore the robe we slipped on her after she was dried off.
“Christ, Daya, talk to us! Tell us why you think that and how we fucked up? We don’t get it. What triggered this behavior?” Predator said impatiently. Finally, she raised her head and stared straight ahead. She wasn’t meeting either of our gazes.
“Tonight isn’t the first time I’ve been told no, and as a way to pacify me, to shut me up, one-sided foreplay was offered.
I guess I should see it as at least you didn’t totally punish me and leave me hurting and alone.
I can’t say if I would’ve been given the silent treatment until you were finished being upset with me. ”
“What do you mean, it’s not the first time? I don’t understand,” I muttered.
“It means that when I said or did things that upset a past boyfriend, he would withhold intimacy. He’d stop talking and freeze me out until he felt I’d learned my lesson.
Sometimes, when I pushed, he’d reluctantly finger me off as quickly as he could.
As soon as I had an orgasm, he’d stop, sneer, and ask if it was enough to shut me up.
Sometimes, weeks went by without him even holding my hand or kissing me, let alone anything more.
If that’s how you are, I don’t want this.
You can take back the property cut. I won’t be humiliated again. Once in a lifetime was enough.”
As she finished, she tried to scoot away from us to the bottom of the bed. She was running. Both of us grasped her arms and hauled her back, though not roughly. She tried to shake off our grips.
“A guy did this to you? A past boyfriend?” I asked to verify we’d heard correctly. When she nodded, I felt gutted, and I knew Predator did, too. We never wanted Daya to feel anything other than utter support and happiness.
Both Predator and I groaned. We shifted until we were facing her as she sat against the headboard. We laced our fingers through hers.
“Melyster, God, I would never in a million years use sex to punish you. I wouldn’t. I’m so damn sorry that our trying to make you wait made you even for a moment think I would.” I told her.
“He’s right, that was never our intention. Tell us about the guy who did this to you.” Menace was audible in his voice.
“You don’t need to hear about that,” she replied.
“I disagree. If it’s triggering for you, then we need to know so we don’t do it again. Just like if we do anything that reminds you of you-know-who, we want to know,” I demanded.
She stayed quiet for a few moments, then took a deep breath. Her gaze met ours. Sadness lingered on her face.
“It was hard for me to trust guys after what happened to me with Marshall. It took years to do it. I’d been in the Corps for a few years before I accepted a fellow Marine’s consistent overtures to date.
Things went along well. When I eventually got to the point of saying yes to sex, I didn’t tell him the details, but I confessed I’d been sexually assaulted.
He was kind and seemed to be understanding.
There were a few rough spots, but he didn’t seem to let them deter him.
“Then, after a few months of being fully together, we were out with friends drinking one night. One of the other guys kept flirting with me. I kept telling him to stop. However, he was the boyfriend of a higher-ranking Marine. I didn’t want to rock the boat.
And my boyfriend knew that because I told him why I didn’t punch the guy.
The other guy never got handsy, but he made his admiration clear.
“When we got home, my boyfriend was cold and distant. I asked what was wrong. He said nothing. When I tried to initiate sex, he told me no. He accused me of liking the other guy’s come-ons, and he wasn’t anyone’s stand-in.
I assured him he wasn’t. But he wouldn’t listen.
He got over it in a few days, and I thought it was the last time.
However, he would get upset at me for other reasons and then withhold intimacy.
If I complained or begged, he’d do enough foreplay to get me off, then go back to freezing me out.
“What you did made me feel the way I had with him. We lasted six months from that first incident until I told him I’d had enough.
He begged me not to do it. Said he loved me.
And that he’d stop doing it, but I was over him and his stupid ass games.
Even when others would stand up for me and tell him the truth, he still did it to me.
Since then, I’ve never permitted a guy to do that to me.
If Zara had told you personally that it was okay, would you have resisted me? ”
My automatic answer was yes, but I hesitated to think it through. And I hated the conclusion I came to. If Zara had told us directly that it was perfectly fine to be intimate with Daya, including full-on sex, I would’ve most likely have welcomed her advance.