Who Do You Love? by Marie C Lecrivain

                   

… tell me, who do you love? - George Thorogood and the Destroyers

Sweat drops form a wet corona across Alice's forehead. She looks up into his flushed face. His arms tremble from tension, as he holds himself up, poised between her legs. The medicinal smell of Bushmills wafts over her with each exhale.

“I... want to do this... but I love her... and... I think... I love ya, too,” he groans. Her eyes briefly flit down to the erect penis between her legs.

Through an alcoholic haze, Alice hears his plea. She turns her head towards the nightstand. Alice spots the photo of him, and “her”. A full moon shines through the skylight, illuminating the photograph. Alice sees the woman's head, crowned with a long fall of red hair, melded to the crook of his shoulder. The woman’s left hand rests comfortably on his chest. Alice takes note of the diamond solitaire ring on the woman’s third finger. In the photo, his head is thrown back with the force of laughter. It's an intimate moment, the synchronous candid kind rarely caught on film.

She understands.

Alice grasps his penis. She shifts her left leg up, and gently guides him, down and 

around, until they reverse positions. Alice kneels between his legs; one hand wraps 

around his cock while the other strokes his thigh. She shuts her eyes as she encloses her mouth around his penis. With the decision no longer in his hands, he climaxes quickly, leaving Alice with a mouthful of semen, and a huge sense of relief.

Within moments, he's fast asleep, wrapped in the twin blankets of exhaustion and alcohol. Alice rises from the bed, swiftly dresses, and leaves the room. She makes her way to the bathroom and spits his cum into the sink. She opens the medicine cabinet and finds the mouthwash. She gargles three times.

Alice walks into the living room, empty but for an easy chair and a fireplace. She spots a larger version of the photo on the mantle, with a small piece of paper tucked into the bottom left hand of the frame. She walks over to the fireplace, and removes the paper. It’s a prayer card with a picture of the Virgin Mary, her heart pierced by swords. She flips the card over, and reads the first line: Fiona Mary Daly, 1974-2001.

About Marie C Lecrivain: 

Marie C Lecrivain is a poet, publisher, and ordained priestess in the Ecclesia Gnostica Catholica, the ecclesiastical arm of Ordo Templi Orientis. Her work has been published in Nonbinary Review, Orbis, Pirene's Fountain, and many other journals. She's the author of several books of poetry and fiction, and recent editor of Gondal Heights: A Bronte Tribute Anthology (copyright 2019 Sybaritic Press, www.sybpress.com).