When I was seven years old, my stepfather told me not to cry. He said that bad things happened to everybody, so what made me so special? Why should they listen to me when bad things have happened to everyone else around me?

Did you believe him?

Yes.

Do you still believe him?

Maybe. He taught me something though.

What did he teach you?

We control the way we deal with the bad things in our lives. I learnt how to take control. He didn't.

How do you know?

Because he was powerless to stop wanting me when I offered to fuck him senseless.

And did you?

Yes. I saw him at my office and I spoke to him. He didn't expect to want me or crave me but, deep down all humans are guided by one thing.

What's that?

Desire.

And did you allow it to get that far?

Yes. We had an affair for almost 3 months after that.

Why him?

Why not?

***

I'm a mistress.

He's older than me by more than a decade and he's been married for almost 20 years. He loves it though. He loves the secrecy and the risk. It adds something to the appeal.

It adds a little something more knowing that I'm his patient. I've been seeing him for almost two years and he's been trying to pick apart my little brain ever since. He hasn't gotten very far though. He only goes as far as I allow him to go.

But there was something about his hands that caught my attention. He had big, gentle hands that I knew could bruise when the time asked for it.
He couldn't stop it.

The desire and the lust.

He was powerless against it. Deep down, we're all powerless against our baser desires. We had sex for the first time on his beige couch in his office. It wasn't very sexy. The couch squeaked and the leather chaffed against my back as I sweated onto it. But his hands...

They gripped my hips and my thighs so tightly that they left bruises for a week. He made me come more than anyone else had ever done- aside from me. It was hot in his office and our deep breaths echoed off every wall. There were no moans or shouts or screams from me. Women moan during sex so that their partner knows she's into it.

I don't give a fuck.

I do it for me and I don't need to moan and scream and shout. How can I feel it when I'm too busy yelling for him to go harder and faster...

No.

It's hotter if I whisper it in their ears just as they're about to fall over their own precipice and take me with them.

The taps of his fingers against his keyboard fascinate me. He was always so studious and organised. He's always in control of his own thoughts and I admire it.

"Is that about me?" I ask, sitting beside him on my bed.

"Yes." His voice is deep, and it makes me shiver whenever he tells me to get naked for him.

"Can I read?" My interest is piqued.

"No." His lips curl into a slight smile as I graze his earlobe with my teeth.

"It's nothing I don't know already." I kiss his neck softly, feeling the pulse in his neck as it beats just a little faster.

"No, Amaani." He stops my kisses, though he doesn't move away.

"Read it to me then." I say, placing his hand between my thighs, allowing him to feel me and my want for him.

He sucks his lips into his mouth, pressing further into my white cotton panties. "The patient has experienced a deep and personal loss which might impede-"

I cut him off with a kiss to his full lips, allowing him to taste the cheap lip balm I had smattered on just moments before. His hand delves into my hair, gripping the roots tightly as he pulls me onto his lap to straddle him. My panties are no barrier to him as his fingers move them to the side before he pushes his finger deep into me. I'm not ready for him and my eyes close tightly till my body begins to accept him. My breath has deepened to low, husky gasps as he traces the inside of me.

But through it all, I'm unable to forget his words.

Loss.

"It wasn't a loss." I say, causing his fingers to still within me.

"What?"

"You said loss." He begins to move his fingers out of me, but I clench my thighs, keeping him as deep as he was before. "Loss would mean that he belonged to me but he never did."

"Why?" his breaths grow ragged as I begin to move my hips, slowly against him.

"I would have been poison to him. It would have killed him." His fingers begin to move once more within me and I welcome it.

"What about me? Are you poison to me too?"

His fingers and my hips now move as one. As one speeds up so does the other. I'm nothing more than a mass of tightened muscle till finally, he grips my hips in his left hand, pulling me forward onto his hand until I feel his knuckles graze at my sensitive skin. I collapse amidst agonised gasps and a deep spasm from the tops of my shoulders till beneath my navel and I can barely breathe nor feel nor think as I feel warmth wash over the tops of my thighs.

I kiss him deeply, my tongue tracing the inside of his mouth as I taste the dark black coffee he had been sipping on not 5 minutes ago. His hands move upwards, gently tracing every contour and curve till he finds my breasts. He loves holding them, touching them, biting on them and I allow him to do it. He rubs them slowly, softly as I continue to kiss him, slowly curling my tongue against his own. "I'm already poisoning you, my love." My whisper causes him to shudder as I run my hands down his shirt, unbuttoning each button slowly before I unzip his pants.

He could do nothing more than surrender to me as I part my thighs and allow him to find bliss within me once more.