-Prisoner-
16
It's better this way.
That's what I've been telling myself. And he hasn't called. I mean… why would he?
And yeah- fine. Okay- I *care* about him- but that's it'll ever be and like he said- that's clearly not good enough for him. So… it's better this way and it's just as well because I'll be moving out here to be with my *real* family and I won't be in Michigan anyway and I'm not gonna have time for him so… it's better this way.
Ohmygod- still… I wish he woulda been there this morning to kiss me before I left.
I standing in front of the door. Ally Warren's door. Found her address and someone let me into the apartment building on their way out.
Ohgod. Ohgod. I… wish he was here. But… it's better this way. I mean- what if she doesn't *like* rap? Or… ohgod.
Okay. I raise my hand to the door and knock softly at first. And then louder.
Shit…. I'm like… shaking.
A blonde woman opens the door. "Yes?"
"Hi. I'm… I called, last night, a couple times and-" she starts to close the door but I put my hand out to stop it. "*Please*- I just… I'm trying to find-"
"Your mother."
"Yes," I say and my eyes start to well up with tears. It's *her*! I *knew* it. "Are you-"
"I don't want to *see* you," she says and tries to close the door.
What?
"Leave me *alone*."
"PLEASE!" I beg. "I just- why the hell did you give me up? I mean- fuck- you're my *mother*- didn't you *love* me?"
"No," she answers.
Ohgod. My body starts to shake and- god- this is a dream, isn't it? I pinch myself. Wake UP!
"How could you-"
"I look at you- *think* about you and it makes me *sick*. I never wanna *see* you again. Aren't you happy you came?" She closes the door and I just… wail. My body falls to the floor. And when am I gonna wake up?
I can't help the tears as they pour out of my eyes. She… doesn't- she *hates* me. God- does *nobody* want me?
I look up when the door suddenly opens and she hands me a few kleenex.
"Don't bother," I say, standing up. At least I know. My own *mother* hates my guts and threw me away like trash. "I got the message. Sorry I bothered you."
I turn to walk away when I hear, "I was raped."
"What?" I turn to look at her.
"When I was thirteen." Ohgod- I choke the sobs back. I wanna wake up now. "My uncle… was drunk and-"
"You got pregnant... with me…" I don't wanna know this. I wanna wake up and be in his arms and have this all be a nightmare. I wanna wake up. I'm ready to wake up.
"I'm sorry," she says. "But… I've tried to forget that night for twenty years. I don't wanna-"
"I get it."
"I see you- think of you and-"
"I *get* it. I'm… sorry-" I take the kleenex from her.
" I *told* them that- sending you away was… the only way- for you not to be punished… for a night that wasn't your fault."
Yeah… and it worked *so* well. And seriously- her eyes… are full of pain. God…
Hey- thanks for not having an abortion, I guess.
"Sorry- I…" I can't do this.
I turn and walk away and she doesn't stop me. God… I'm the product of an incestuous rape.
I can't do this. I can't be me anymore.
I run from the building, down the street.
God… it's… my whole life… should never have even existed. Should have been a placenta in a garbage can- not a *baby*. I just run… I don't know how long and when I can't run anymore because I can't breathe, I collapse onto a park bench and just cry.
Hell- I guess that answers the question- 'it can't be any worse than my parents, can it?' Ohgod- my parents… all this time- raising *me*- the garbage from a rape. The trash nobody loves.
My eyes dry up and I can't cry any more.
I just sit here and stare at the grass as the sun passes over head.
God- my whole life is a lie.
I'm worthless. I'm worse than a spic whore. Ben was right- that name is too good for what I am. Maybe it's in my blood.
"Hey there, Doll. You okay?"
He sits next to me on the bench. "Fine," I answer softly.
"You been here a while. Wanna… go somewhere? For dinner? Or…"
I look over at him. I could have worse. He's maybe mid to late thirties. I nod my head. Yes- *please* take me away from myself. Make me forget.
Ten minutes later, he's pawing at me and I'm kissing him and grinding against him. Ohyes- please… shit. I need this- just raw need. He's pushed my shirt apart and throws me against the nearest wall of the alley and my fingers fly to his belt buckle. Shit.
He pushes on my shoulders until I'm on my knees. Huh? Oh- right.
All take and no give but I don't care. It doesn't matter. I push his jeans down and push the briefs down as well. I grab his cock with my hands and he holds my head and pushes me toward him.
And- I look at my hand.
The ring.
What am I…
He pushes my head into him and- I bite him. Hard.
"WHAT THE FUCK, BITCH?!" He screams in pain and stumbles backwards.
"I'm sorry," I say and quickly run from the alley, buttoning my shirt as I do.
I don't know if he's running after me or not. But I run across the street and jump into a cab and mutter the name of my hotel.
I pull my cell phone out of my purse and dial his number quickly.
*Please* pick up.
<Ring. Ring.>
*Please* pick up.
<Ring. Ring.>
He's… not going to, he's- "Hello?" He asks quietly.
"I *need* you," I confess. Because I *do*.
"I *told* you- that's not good enough. I'm sorry but-"
"Yes," I state.
"Yes what, Eva?"
"Yes. I *am* sick of it."
He's quiet for a very long time.
17
I'm sitting on the bed in my hotel room wishing I wasn't alive.
God- like I can *blame* her for hating my guts. *I* hate my guts. God- what were those months like for her? Knowing that I was growing inside her- a *relative* was growing inside her.
My eyes start to well up and if I cry again… I may become dehydrated. But… I think I'm beyond tears. I've beyond beyond sadness into despair.
<Knock. Knock.>
I jump up and open the door. God, it's him. "Hi," I say meekly.
He just opens his arms invitingly and I slam into his chest and start crying some more.
I didn't tell him anything. He just asked "Really?" And I said, "Yes" and then I asked him to come over. But he… knows something is wrong because I don't *know* how we got onto the bed, but he's just holding me in his arms.
I'm finally calm and *not* crying and his shirt is *soaked* and I… need him.
I start sensuously kissing his neck as I slowly bunch his shirt in my hands to expose his skin.
"Stop," he says and pulls away from me a bit.
"What? I-"
"This isn't about *that*. God- that's not the only reason why I gave you the ring, Eva. Don't you get it? I like spending time with you- not just *fucking*- but… when we're sittin', watchin' TV- I like that too."
"I'm sorry, I just- don't know how to…"
He pulls me back to him and says, "You lay back down and put your head on my chest and tell me what happened. Why'd you call?"
Oh- right. "I was… there was a man in-"
"What?" I hear his voice crack.
Ohgod- stupid. "We didn't- *I* didn't… thought I *wanted* to- but… it didn't feel good. Felt… wrong- so I… *left*."
"You… didn't?" He asks.
I lift my head to look into his eyes and he's upset- mad- I know. But I can only say, "NO. We kissed a bit and… he pushed me to my knees and I *thought* I could- but… it was wrong. I bit him and ran. I'm… god- I'm sorry. Everything is so fucked up. *I'm* fucked up."
"What's wrong?" He asks when I place my head back on his chest.
"I met her."
"Who?"
"My mother. My biological mother."
"And?"
"I'm her cousin."
"What?"
"I'm her daughter and her cousin."
"I don't-"
"Her… *uncle*… raped her- when she thirteen." And just saying it out loud- to another person makes it horrifyingly true.
"Ohgod… Baby… that's-"
"Yeah," I say and sniffle a bit. "Cried all day in the park and then that guy- came up to me… I wanted to forget- god- you shoulda seen the look in her eyes. She… *hates* me. There's… no love in her eyes- nothing. Just a… hateful, terrible recognition."
I sigh as he rubs my back, lifts my shirt a bit so he can caress my skin in a… *loving* way.
"So why did you- I mean… the guy- why did you-"
"I wanted to escape. Get out of my skin- it's like… when all there is, is the pounding of my heart and the pulsing between my thighs… it's easy to be somebody else- not me."
"Is that… why we can't… have something more-" he states out loud, not so much of a question.
"No," I say quickly and look into his eyes. "I was there… and- I looked at the ring and… I guess I realized that… when I'm with you- I *am* with you. I *don't* leave- or numb myself to the- pain… you're the only one who I *stay* with. That's why I let you come inside me. Because I *feel* it. With everyone else- I feel *nothing*."
"Ohgod, Eva…" he whispers softly before pulling me to him for a kiss. Soft at first- but soon, I've moved on top of him and I'm crushing his lips with my own and-
<Ring ring. Ring ring.>
"I'm sorry," he says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Hello?… Hi, Baby- oh yeah? Oh no- okay… yeah… I'm on my way… Okay… I love you too, Hai. Bye."
I move off him because I know he's gonna leave.
"I'm *sorry*- but-"
"It's okay," I shrug.
"She's not feeling well and I- should really-"
"It's o*kay*," I insist.
"Do you… wanna come with?"
I shake my head. "I uh… think I'm gonna- go home. And-" we walk toward the door and I kiss him softly. "I'll *call* you."
"You better," he says.
"Marshall?"
"Yeah?"
"*Thanks*- for being… patient. While I figure myself out."
"I happen to think you're worth the wait," he says with a wink. "Be safe, okay?"
"Yeah. You too."
After he leaves, I dial my parent's number. I should really tell them I'm comin' home tomorrow but they're not there so I leave a message. "Hola, Mami y Papi. Em... voy a... bueno, llegaré mañana. Te llamaré cuando llegue. Adios. Y... os quiero." ("Hi, Mami and Papi. Um... I'm going to- well, I'll be coming tomorrow. I'll call when I get there. Bye. And... I love you.")
18
Okay. I'm in a relationship.
*I'm* in a relationship. And I'm really trying not to freak out about that.
We'll be landing in little under an hour.
I take a deep breath and I actually… miss him.
So I pull out my cell phone and call him for third time ever. "Hey lady," he answers. "You called!" Believe me, I'm just as shocked as he is.
"Yeah, well… I um- I'm going *crazy*- thinkin' and stuff, so-"
"You land yet?"
"No. Forty minutes or so. Whacha doin'?"
"Watchin' Hai turn the studio floor into Barbie's prime vacation destination."
"Ah- good times those are."
"I suppose. So look- I get home in about a week. The boys and I are gonna head to 54 when I get there- you wanna… hang wit' us? Backstage pass to a recording session?"
"Hell yeah," I say. "I'll totally be your bitch! Or would I be your ho?"
"How 'bout you just be my girlfriend?"
"Okay," I answer. Shit. I'm his *girlfriend*. We- *he*- said it out loud.
"Aiight, I gotta go- but… call me? After you talk to your parents."
"Okay. I will. I- thanks."
"Don't thank me all the fuckin' time, Eva. I'm your boyfriend- you don't have to thank me."
"Okay."
"And Eva?"
"Yeah?"
"Try not to blow up at 'em, okay?"
"Yeah," I sigh. "Bye."
God- what the fuck am I gonna *say* to them? Thanks for ignoring my pain and telling me I was going to Hell? But hey- at least you didn't *hate* me?
Fuck- I probably *am* going to Hell. Fuckin' child of… I wonder if they *knew*. I wonder if *that's* why they were reluctant to give me any information. If they were trying to *protect* me… god- what am I gonna *say*?
And seriously- an hour of worrying passes by soo quickly because before I know it- we've landed in Lansing and… they're standing there waiting for me- like the loving parents they *are*. I mean… it doesn't *excuse* it. Knowing where I came from… how terrible my life *could* have been… it doesn't make up for it. But…
When I get up to them I don't have to think of what to say because she grabs me and hugs me tightly. And I hug her back. "Eva… Mija… nuestra querida," she murmurs other things- things I vaguely remember her cooing softly to me when I wasn't feeling well and was curled up in her arms.
My mother.
Mi madre.
"¡Vámanos!" Papi says. "¡Vámanos a casa!"
Yeah... let's go home.
The ride is silent for the most part, except them asking how my flight was and how the weather was in LA.
We get a bit closer to the house and she asks, "¿Cómo se llama?"
"¿Quién?" I ask. I don't know who she's asking about.
"¿Tu novio? ¿Cómo se llama?"
"Oh- Marshall. His name's Marshall."
"¿Y es de escuela?" ("And he's from school?")
"No. No asiste la escuela." ("No. He doesn't go to school.")
"Entonces, ¿qué hace? ¿Trabaja?" Fuck. Yes, Mami, he works. But… I don't wanna have the conversation about my thirty year old boyfriend. ("What does he do? He works?")
"Sí. Trabaja." Short answers and we're home.
"¿Dónde vive?" ("Where does he live?")
"Vive en Detroit. Tiene una casa." ("In Detroit. He has a house.")
"¿Ya?" Yes, Mami. He already has a home. "¿Cuántos años tiene?" ("Already? How old is he? ")
Fuck. "Mami... por favor-" She nods and I successfully dodge the 'how old is he' question. I don't wanna break the tentative peace that we have.
We get inside and I say, "I'm gonna unpack." God… I pass all the pictures she's got hanging on the walls. My school pictures, baby pictures, pictures of us at Christmas…
I go into my room and throw my suitcase on the bed. It's been a *long* few days.
I walk over to my dresser to put my sunglasses down and stare at the statue there- virgin Mary cradling Jesus in her lap. That statue has been in my room since I can remember. I pick it up and flip it over. It's got my name and birthday written on it.
"Knock. Knock," my father says opening the door tentatively. "May I…"
"Yeah, come in."
He sits on my bed and pats the spot next to him. "Siéntate, Eva."
I walk over, bringing the statue with me for some reason. Just didn't occur to me to put it down.
"Eva… things… are-" he stops and takes the statue from my hands. "You know- your mother and I tried for several years to have niños. Five years- for five years we tried. Por fin- she was pregnant. We were… estábamos tan contentos- we did not think we could *ever* be happier, Eva. It was… un milagro- that she was pregnant. But- you don't know. NO sabes que- ella dio la luz a una niña."
"What?" I didn't... I didn't think she'd ever *had* a baby. But- she gave birth to a baby?
"Sí- the baby… was early- by dos meses. Y… murió."
Ohgod- the baby… died? I could have… had an older sister? Of course- had the baby not died- they probably wouldn't have come for me.
"We were… devastated, Eva. Mami- she cried for months and months. She tried- so hard to believe- we wanted to believe- that the baby had died for a reason. That she was needed elsewhere."
"Papi… I'm- sorry."
"A year later, she was pregnant again and miscarried at four months. Eva, your mother- she… always was católica- always. She… believes so strongly in Dios y los Santos. But- after each baby- a little part of her died. After she lost our third child- she… *hated* Dios. We both did. He had taken our children- she thought we were being punished for something we did not remember."
I just sit and listen because this is the first time either of them has ever *talked* to me about this stuff.
"And after the fifth child? After he was stillborn- Mami lost the fe. She did not believe Dios existed. And not believing is much worse than just *hating* him. But- she gave up. Stopped going to la iglesia, stopped praying- tore up all the pictures of los Santos- broke all her crosses…"
Ohgod- I can't *imagine* what kind of pain she must have been in. Five kids? I thought maybe one or two- but five?
"One day- I came home and found all of the statues and religious things broken and in the garbage. Eva, she… just stopped caring- about anything."
I'm crying now- he is too. He lost five kids too, after all.
"It was when we lost the third baby that we put our names on the list- at the agency. We'd completely forgotten about it because of everything that was occurring. But… a few months after the fifth baby murió- your mother- she'd quit her job and was deeply depressed… the phone rang."
God- I *wish* they'd told me all this sooner.
"And I picked it up. They said that- there was a young girl- who was pregnant. They said they had had otra familia- they had wanted the baby- but at the last minute- something happened- the woman was pregnant and they didn't want two young babies. They asked if we were still interested."
God- could it get any worse? TWO familias that didn't want me? My real mother *and* the other family?
"Eva- I went to Mami and I told her the story- de que me han dicho- and… you should have *seen* her eyes, Eva. They- came to life. Two days later, you were born and we were waiting in an empty room. And they carried you in and put you in her arms and she started believing again, Eva. She found her faith again- in *you*."
God- I'm totally balling now. They *never* told me this. He's got his arm around me and I'm resting my head on his shoulder.
"You were our milagro, Eva. Our miracle. She said- *we* believe- that we lost our babies- that that other family got pregnant- that all of that happened to bring you to *us*. And it did not *matter* what color you were- or what language you *should* have spoken, Eva- you were meant for *us*."
"I bought that in the gift shop that day." I turn my head to the door where my mother's standing, pointing to the statue. "For you- because you're our miracle. That's why," she sits on the other side of me. "Your second name is María- for Santa María- la Santa del milagro. Mother of the miracle child. And your *first* name- we chose because you're our first and only daughter- like Eve was of Dios- Eva… is *ours*."
And now we're *all* crying.
After a while, we stop and they're just holding me. "Sabes, Eva- that… you were *meant* to be our family- but María never said we'd be perfect parents."
I crack a smile.
"We… did not realize- how much problems you had- how *many*- we… wished you would have *said* something."
"And *I* wish you would have told me this five *years* ago."
"Yes. But… can we make it better?"
God- I hope so.
19
I hear a gentle knocking on my door that's partially opened. "Pasa," I tell her and she comes in and looks at me. I'm sitting on the edge of my bed painting my toe nails.
"Eva- los chicos-"
"Mami, don't start conmigo," I sigh. "Don't you get *sick* of it? Perhaps this was a better conversación to have when I was fifteen."
"Is that… when you-"
Now- to be honest or not be honest. "No," I answer. "I was thirteen."
"¡Oh Santo por Dios!" She says and sits down on my vanity stool. "Thirteen? Who?"
"A boy from school," I answer.
"How *many*?"
"Mami- I don't-"
"Eva," she says and I look at her for a second. "Eva, I- tienes razón. I *should* have talked to you before- should have... realized why you- but I want to have it now. Can we?"
"I don't wanna hear about how I'm going to Hell, Mami."
"Te lo prometo. How many?"
"About thirty," I answer. We'll round to the nearest ten… well- then it'd probably be like… forty- since I think I'm about thirty-five but… I notice her flinch, but- she doesn't lecture. She just nods her head.
"And are you- safe?"
I nod my head- again, we won't talk about Em. "Yes. I'm on the pill and always use a condom."
"Sabes que el sexo oral ya es peligroso- que-" ("You know oral sex is also dangerous...")
"Mami, lo sé. I *know*."
"I'm *scared* for you, Mija. I just- didn't know what to do-" She stops herself before asking, "What about with your novio? Do you- is he the only?"
"Ahora, sí. Por eso, me dio el anillo." ("Now, yes. That's why he gave me the ring.")
"Do you... *love* him?"
"I care about him," I answer and start on my left foot. "And he cares about me."
"He treats you well? ¿Con respeto?"
"Siempre, Mami, always."
"¿Me lo prometes?"
"Yes, Mami. I like him. We… understand each other."
I can*not* believe this- she's actually calmly talking to me about this.
"Can we… *meet* him?"
Oh my god- she's fuckin' creeping me *out*. I look up in shock, I can only assume, because- fuck.
<Ring. Ring.> Oh thank god!
"¿Alo?" I answer.
"Hey, Lady- you didn't call. I hope you didn't-"
"Ohgod- I am *so* sorry- I meant to earlier, but- I swear I was gonna call."
"I'll let you off this hook this one time," he says, "But next time you'll get a spank."
"Promise?" I ask with a small smile.
"Sure, what the hell! So- whaz uuuup?"
"That is *so* old, Loser. What's that- from like… two *years* ago?"
"But I bet I made you laugh, huh?"
"Yeah. Where's Hailie?"
"She's good. Sleepin'. I wore her out this morning- got her up bright and early and we went to a beach for sunrise and we was in the studio most a' the day wit' Dre- so…"
"What time is it out there?"
"Six."
"You think she'll stay out all night?"
"No, prolly not. She'll wake *me* up at five in the fuckin' mornin', but- how'd it go?"
"Good. I'll… tell ya later. Whad ya want?"
"To make sure you had a home still."
"Yeah. Thanks for worrying."
"Of *course* I'ma worry about my girl." Ya know- it sounds nice when he says it. And all this time, my mother's just been sitting there, flipping through one of my textbooks for this semester.
"Okay- well… I'ma go. I'll call- I promise. But- when you gonna be back?"
"Sunday night. Hai's gotta go school shoppin' yet and Kim wants to take her. So-"
"Aiight. Talk to you then?"
"Yeah. I l -l be thinkin' 'boucha."
"Ditto. Ciao."
"¿Quién es Hailie?" She asks me. Fuck…("Who's Hailie? ")
"Su hija," I answer. "Tiene siete años." ("His daughter. She's six.")
"He has a daughter? ¿Cuántos años tiene *él*?" ("How old is *he*?")
"He's... older, but-"
"How much older, Eva?"
"Ten years."
"¿DIEZ? HE'S THIRTY?!"
"Mami-" I might as well tell her *everything* since… she's not gonna like who he is even more. "He's a good man. Un buen hombre. He's *always* treated me well. He even helped me en Los Ángeles cuando estuvo allí- después de conocer a mi madre."
"*Yo* soy tu *madre*, Evita," she says, the pain practically dripping from her voice. ("*I* am your *mother.")
"Yes. You are," I repeat. Because… she *is* my mother. The only one I've had, the only one who stayed, the only one who wanted me and cared. The only one I'll *have*.
"What does he do? You said he works?"
"Yeah. He's…" she's gonna freak out. "He's in entertainment."
"¿Qué?"
"He's… it's- Eminem."
She stares at me blankly.
20
I don't know why I really knocked on the door, *or* why I'm actually *waiting* for him to answer. He gave me the fuckin' key. But-
"Hey!" He says as he opens it. He places his hand on my hip and kisses my cheek softly before doing the same to my lips.
"Hi," I reply and catch his lips again. I slip my hands around his waist and under his shirt before pulling him closer to me as I deepen the kiss.
Shit- I love his lips. And his tongue.
But he slowly pulls away from me and sticks his tongue out at me. "How goes it?"
I shrug. "Okay, I guess. Missed you," I tell him as he pulls my hand into the house. I throw my bag onto the floor in the hallway. He's a bit ahead of me in the hallway and I smile before running toward him and jumping on his back. "GOCHA!"
"AH! I'VE BEEN HAD!" I lick his cheek before resting my chin on his shoulder as he carries me into the kitchen. "You hungry?" He asks, opening the fridge.
I smile a bit before placing soft, wet, slow kisses on his neck before moving around to the back of his neck. I *know* he likes when I do that. "Maybe," I say and woah- when did my voice go all sexy?
"Shit- stop," he says while tilting his head to the side so I can kiss him more.
"C'mon, *Eminem*," tease. "Throw me up on the counter and have your wicked way wit' me."
"Thought we were gonna go swimmin'," he says, closing the fridge door.
I hop off his back and push him against the fridge so I can press against him. "You can go *swimming* in me- I get wet enough. But you know that-"
"I *know*," he says, kissing my lips gently. "But- I wanna go swimming."
I sigh. He's so stubborn sometimes. I often think that when he gets like this- it's to torture me. It's like tying me to the bed- keep me wet and panting for him.
"So," I sigh again and grab a Mountain Dew from the fridge before hopping up on the counter. "I told my mother."
"Told her what?"
"Save the gory, fun details- pretty much everything."
"Everything?"
"More or less- she came into my room to rag on me- 'bout the boys and blah blah blah. And I told her that I was seeing someone- that I had a boyfriend. She started asking about you and then you called and she asked who Hailie is- so… I dropped it. Told her you were older and had a kid and then she asked what you did for a living. So… I told her I was dating Eminem."
"What?" He looks a bit… shocked? "You… *told* her?"
"Yup!"
"And… whad she-"
"She said nothing. For a very long time. Then she laughed. She didn't believe me. I'm not sure she still does. Come to think of it- I think she'd prefer thinkin' of me as a hoochie instead of being the 'young girl' of an older guy. Whatever-"
"I can't believe you… *told* her."
"Of course I did. She was askin' and you're my guy- arencha?"
"Yeah-" he says. "So… got your bathing suit?"
"Got my birthday suit- which would prefer?"
"We're goin' swimmin'," he answers me, "not skinny dippin'. So…"
"GAH! You're impossible!" I say, hopping off the counter. "And I assuuume- you'll want to change in the bathroom?"
"Actually I got a bathroom downstairs. You can change down there, c'mon."
"I gotta get my bag!" I run to the foyer and unzip my bag and pull out my two-piece. "Aiight." I follow him down the stairs, past the door to the studio to the pool. The way his house is, you enter the front door but the 'basement' persay is open on the back of the house, so one whole wall of the 'pool room' is window.
"In there-" he points toward a door and I nod and head over to change. God- what a great life for Hailie. Of course- I guess it's hard for her being juggled between two parents, plus with him traveling a lot… that must suck.
I come back out and find him already in the water, a pair of red swimming trunks on. As for my bathing suit- when he suggested we swim the next time I came over- I went out and bought a new one. Strangely enough- this is the first time I've been in his pool. So- I threw out the older yellow two-piece and bought a red bikini thing. The bottom, if one could call it that, is a piece of cloth and four strings. The strings tie around my hips. The top, again, barely covers anything and ties around my back and also has two strings that tie around my neck.
"Oh fuck," he mutters upon looking up and seeing me.
"You like?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Got it for you."
"And *only* me," he says.
Fuck, the way his eyes drink me in is so… *nice*. I decide to take the plunge and *hope* that this thing stays *on*- not that it would be bad if it didn't… but- then what did I spent fifty bucks for?
I dive into the deep end and swim for him, as he's on his knees in the shallow end. I open my eyes and pop up right in front of him, 'accidentally' rubbing against him.
"This is *nice*. Haven't swum in a long while."
"Hai *loves* swimming. She'd *live* down here if she could. She keeps beggin' for a slumber pool party- like I want ten seven-year-olds sleepin' around my pool, waitin' to fall in and drown!"
God- I feel like… I know her so well. From what he says in his music and how much he talks about her when we're just layin' in bed or eatin' dinner.
I mean- I eat at night. A lot. Especially after fucking. Like an hour after- we always wake up and eat and talk more.
"Swim to the deep end?" He asks and I nod and follow him as he takes off under water. "So did they know- about your real mother?"
"Oh- well… ya know- I told them- what happened… what she said and they said they were just told that it was a really bad situation and that the mother in no way wanted anything to do with the baby. So- I guess that's why they didn't want me going- but… they coulda told me."
"Would it have stopped you?"
"Probably not," I shrug and just still in the water a couple feet away from him. "This is *nice*- man… see- I always told 'em we needed a pool- but they never listened to me."
He nods and he's been… lookin' at me weird all night. Well- for the past hour… acting strange- not as… hands on as he usually is. "You okay?" I ask.
"Sure," he shrugs.
"Somethin' on your mind?" I ask, swimming a bit closer.
"Nah," he shakes it off and gets this devilish look on his face before slamming his hands down on the water and splashing me.
"OH THAT'S IT! THIS IS WAR PAL!"
He takes off for the shallow end and I dive under the water. I just *love* swimming and… this is nice. AH HA! I grab his leg and pull him toward me.
"HA!" I scream triumphantly. "I WIN!" I'm holding onto him, my arms tightly around his chest.
"Now that you've got me- what *are* you gonna do wit'-"
I silence him by smashing my lips against his and despite the slight chlorine flavor- it's been *too* long since I've kissed him. He holds my hips against him and I'm *really* wet. I mean… of course I am, 'cause I'm in a pool- but… for him.
"I *know* what I'ma do," I inform him and I just realized that he's been slowly pulling us back toward the stairs. He sits on the bottom of the three steps so the water laps at my nipples. He pulls on my knees so they're straddling his thighs and I can grind against him as I kiss him.
Shit- have I *mentioned* how much I love his hands? I just *love* being groped by him.
"Want you," I whisper before kissing him again. My hands slip over his shoulders and around his neck and I run my fingers through his short hair. I just love feeling him. I'm a lucky girl- that my man drives me as wild as he does.
His hands are on my hips and I feel him pulling at the bows I tied in the strings of the bikini bottom. He pulls the wet fabric from between my thighs and exposes my skin to the water and his touch. "Fuck," I groan. He wastes no time in slipping two fingers inside me.
"Shit, Eva. You're always soo wet."
"'Course I am," I smile and kiss him again.
"Ha ha," he mutters before thrusting three inside me.
"FUCK! C'mon, *please*," I beg. I rock on his hands and it causes the water around us to splash us lightly and it easily slips into the rhythm of how my body rocks on his fingers. He always just *knows* how to touch me and he does it again too when he angles his fingers up and rubs that spot- the only guy to find it.
I start pulling on the waistband of his swimming trunks. He raises his hips a bit so I can push them off him enough to slide my hand along his length.
He pulls my hips toward him and I press him against my entrance before dropping down onto him and splashing us in the process. "Fuck," I kiss him and feel his hands pulling at the strings to get my top off.
I move my hands back to help him but he stops me. "Just ride me," he says and places my hands on his shoulders for purchase.
Okay. I can do that. Don't mind at all. I move my hips on him, forward and back while up and down and they fall into an easy rhythm with his hips and the water around us.
Shit- he always feels *so* good. I love him like this.
His fingers roll and pinch my nipples and twist my hips a bit. I love feeling him all around- rubbing myself differently with him. I mean- anyone who doesn't ever get to feel sex like this- I feel sorry for.
He always feels sooo right. So good- shit. God- "I *love*-"
And with no warning, he's coming inside me and filling me with him as my hips move on him.
Shit. I slow my hips and… "Baby?" I ask trembling.
"Uh huh?" he grunts, his forehead on my shoulder, his body slumped against me.
"I didn't… finish." I mean… this is… a first.
And it's… annoying because he's slowly slipping from me and my body is still on fire and-
"Now you know what it feels like," he mumbles into my skin. But I hear him.
"What?" I ask.
"Huh?" He asks.
"Don't try to pretend like you didn't hear me. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Now I know what it feels like?" I get off him and fuck- my legs are trembling.
Shit. He's obviously pissed about *something* and- I can't… fight with him like this- so- I thrust three fingers inside myself while pinching my clit with my other hand and he just stares deeply into my eyes until I finally throw myself over the edge and come.
Shit. I grab my bikini top and bottom before climbing out of the pool and wrapping a towel around myself. "So?" I ask, looking at him as he gets out of the pool with his trunks already pulled up.
"Forget it."
"*No*. There's *obviously* something bothering you. So- *tell* me."
"I'ma go upstairs and shower- you can use the bathroom down here if you want."
"Marsh- please- tell me what you-" But he doesn't stop. He just closes the door behind him as he goes upstairs.
What the fuck?
Part 5
Author: crazyevildru@yahoo.com
Back to fan fiction indexThese stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.