The Gentle Degenerates Read Free

hurt. Regina flashed the scene immediately, and without missing a beat changed from White Goddess to Earth Mother. She came over and put my head in her lap, and stroked me until I filled with warmth and gratitude. My eyes became moist even though I realized that she was playing carrot-and-stick with me. I fell asleep like that, resting on her thighs.
    Later we got up and went to Brooklyn Heights for Syrian food. We strolled on the Esplanade and watched Manhattan doing its night-time scene across the river, growling in power and speed, ablaze with light. It got very romantic and it was like first love all over again, holding hands and holding one another tightly. We went home in a cloud of euphoria and headed straight for bed.
    We took off our clothes and moved into one another’s arms without a hesitation. I was bubbling over and she moved with a joyful, steady beat. She lay back, her ass in my hands, pumping her cunt into my cock, and I melted into delirium and spasms of sweet melancholy. This was us fucking, Regina and I, and she was giving me her all. I possessed her as she wanted me to, and I alone received the center of her love.
    Yet running counterpoint to all the pleasure was the thought, “Only because you copped to her game, and only because she continued to find you accessible. If she had gone out by herself for dinner, might she not have met another man, a man with glowing eyes and hot hands, a man who could see the little girl inside her and offer her a proper lollipop? Once she had said to me, ‘I’m a sucker for anyone who sweet-talks me,’ and again, ‘I let him fuck me because he told me I was beautiful at a time when I had forgotten I could be beautiful’.”
    The fantasy took hold. I saw her now, still fucking, biting her lips in passion, her hands fluttering a tattoo like pigeons’ wings along the man’s back. Yet the man wasn’t me. It was any man who happened to fill this particular slot at this particular time. I looked down at her. Her eyes were closed. Her lean dancer’s body rippled and writhed under me, as she sucked at my cock with her now sloshing cunt, and put her legs around my thighs in that most intimate of all embraces. Her entire ripe body began to open, and I wasn’t sure it was me she was opening to. There was just man, just the male, only the cock.
    Torment burned through me as the sensations of sex forced me to move. I lost my breath and my ribcage became sore. I cried out, “Regina,” and yearned for her to respond to me. But all I received was an impersonal caress. “Don’t stop,” she said.
    I bounced immediately from sorrow to anger. The bitch! She was betraying me while she was in my very arms by nullifying me, making me a stud to rub herself on. I was past all notions of reason or logic. There was pure feeling, and the thoughts which that feeling fed. She was worse than a whore, for a whore makes no pretence of sharing, while the slut lying under me wooed me with promises of love and fidelity. Now she seemed filthy, and all my hidden hatred of women burst through and flooded the experience of sex. All she wanted was a male animal.
    And so I became that animal. From inside me growls rumbled up and through my teeth. I hunched my back and pinned her down, as though I were a great cat about to slash the throat of a deer. I bit into her flesh, nipping at her jaw and shoulders and chest. She bucked and dug her claws into my back. Pain matched pain. She opened her eyes in confusion, and for a full second she didn’t recognize me. She floundered in her responses and I screwed up my eyes to smile wickedly into her face. She saw that she had been caught and two rays of hatred shot back at me. I laughed in exultation and slapped her across the mouth. She screamed in anger. “Fuck you, fuck you, I’ll kill you!” she cried.
    I yelled at the top of my lungs, a crackling jungle cry that drove her head back into the pillow. Then, very softly, I said, “You stupid little